My husband is awesome

Last Saturday, K and I went to a wedding of some friends on our kickball team. After the wedding, we all (including bride & groom!) went out to a bar.

K had taken his ring off. I pinched him jokingly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing it. I had it on backwards."

"What do you mean, you had it on backwards?" K's ring is solid and symmetrical.

He was looking on the inside of the band. "I always wear it the way you put it on me."

I was stunned. "You know which way I put the ring on you? How do you know that?"

He explained. "I took it off after the wedding and looked at the stamp inside so I'd know."

It was one of the sweetest things I've ever heard. I might have cried a little.

Why K and I will never be in a jewelry commercial

Have you seen that chocolate diamonds commercial -- the one for K@y? I swear, every time I see it, it makes me laugh because that couple is nothing like K and I.

For starters, no matter why or how long I've been up, I do not look like that at 2 a.m.

And then, when the husband explains he's up at 2 a.m. because it's 2 a.m. on Christmas ... for their first Christmas as a family, I'd definitely have to make fake vomiting noises.

He hands her a chocolate diamond ring. The practical side of me would immediately wonder just how much overboard that ring was for a Christmas gift. And I'd feel like a loser for just getting him a Blu-Ray, a stupid sweater, and whatever gadget I could get him to admit he was slightly interested in.

As if that weren't enough, as the commercial closes, the husband asks if his wife thinks their baby will remember that first Christmas. She gives the sugary sweet, cheesy answer, "I know I will."

My sarcastic response would be something along the lines of: "No, dumbass! She's 6 months old!"

No, we're definitely no jewelry store commercial couple.

We're way cooler than that.

MLIB, Marathon Runner

We ran. And ran. And ran. But we finished, and we had a pretty awesome pace.

It was painful, it was torture, and I'm pretty sure we're insane for doing it, but it's done.

We're done.

I'm never doing that again.

"You gotta have a goal"

Our marathon is approaching ... not quickly enough, but it's coming. And after all that training is done, we're going to have a whole lot of time on our hands. It's going to be awesome.

But somehow, in a conversation with K's aunt & uncle, who stopped by to visit as they passed through VA on a road trip, K and I decided to fill that free time with a different activity.

To celebrate completing our marathon, we're going to learn Italian together.

And then, we're going to Italy to use it.

K has family there, and I'd love to see Venice. And Florence. And Rome. But especially Venice.

Not a bad reward for running 26.2.

Hell, maybe we'll even call it a honeymoon.

One lucky girl

Today is K's and my three-year wedding anniversary (from the Florida wedding, the one where we were actually legally married). Three years and a second wedding later, we still haven't had a honeymoon. We swore to ourselves that we'd finally get around to that this year, but between all the traveling for weddings, wedding showers, a baby shower, and we-haven't-seen-you-in-a-while visits, we just don't want to have to take off work again for something else. That, and sometimes it's just nice to be home for once!

We're very fortunate to feel like we have everything we want or need, so we didn't plan on even buying gifts.

So imagine my surprise today when I see an enormous bouquet of flowers coming up the stairs today. And when the bouquet was moved aside, I could see that the delivery person was K!

Of course he planned his arrival just in time for lunch. That alone was a nice treat, since we work in completely opposite directions from one another, so it's a good 40 minutes or so between my workplace and his.

Tonight is our weekly kickball game (by the way, I had an amazing catch at last week's game, AND I'm somehow the 3rd kicker in our new lineup!), which we always look forward to.

We're still going to fit in some of the sweet, romantic stuff -- we've got brunch and a couple's massage at a spa schedule for Sunday. Considering the jam-packed day we have on Saturday, which includes a 16-mile training run, Sunday's relaxation will be pure perfection.

But for tonight, we'll celebrate with a little kickball, lots of friends, and a couple beers.

That's more our style anyway.

27

Today's my 27th birthday, and so far, it's been a pretty good day.

Instead of getting up to run 3 miles for our marathon training, K left the decision up to me before immediately cuddling up next to me. I'm pretty sure he was just looking to get out of the run without being the one to take the blame. I was happy to oblige.

I woke up feeling nice and rested, and I was in a great mood. K slipped a small box by me while I was getting ready this morning. I was immediately in love with what was inside.

I had already decided to wear a new shirt I'd been wanting to wear for a while now. I really wanted to wear the necklace, but it wasn't the best fit for the ruffly shirt. In fact, with the ruffles and the shiny chain, it almost looked Guido-ish.

Should I change shirts? But I wanted to wear this one. It's the perfect birthday shirt--bright and fun and cute, all at the same time.

But I didn't want to wait to wear the necklace either.

My solution: It's my birthday. I'm wearing them both! And there's not a damn thing anybody can say about it.

Just when I think you can't get any dumber ...

K just pinged me on my phone. He's 10 minutes away from my office (which means he's now about 40 minutes from his).

Evidently this was a planned surprise. Tomorrow marks 5 years from the day we met, so he wanted to do something special. Since he has a meeting or something tomorrow, he asked for an extended lunch today so he could surprise me with one of my favorite places for lunch!

Does that man know how to redeem himself, or what?!

Best holiday ever! (and some blurbs)

Today is G___ Day. It's the first one K & I have spent together since we got engaged, so it's nice to have our own little holiday tradition. We celebrated by enjoying two things that had been on our minds since our trip to Hawaii: Forgetting Sarah Marshall (since it takes place in HI) and pizza (since we didn't eat it while we were on the island).

We mixed some champagne and strawberries with it. Nice, laid back, and completely awesome.

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A couple weeks ago, I discovered kettlebell classes at our gym. They're fantastic. I actually missed them while we were on vacation. I went tonight. Awesome workout. According to my heart rate monitor, I burned 592 calories. I'm totally going to be a regular to that class! 

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K & I have a 10-mile run to do in just 9 days. I'm worried I'm going to keel over & die in my attempt to finish. I dragged myself out for a quick 2-mile run today. My first mile was done in 7.5 minutes. Granted, I was at a faster pace when I started that first mile, but whatever. My time for the entire run was 16:40. I thought I was going to die; I have no idea how I didn't. (Burned a couple hundred cal there too!)

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Tomorrow's my big 4th interview. Hopefully it goes well, although at this point, it seems that just qualifies me for another interview. We'll see!

After almost 5 years, we finally took a trip together ... alone

The drive to Snowshoe, where K and I went skiing, was about the same amount of time it used to take us to get to each other's apartments when we lived in Dallas and Louisiana. It was the first time either of us had been to West Virginia. It turned out to be a pretty scenic drive, and the closer we got to the mountain, the more ridiculous the road got.

If we lived in this town, I'd totally go to church here!

Such a beautiful view.

K said this is the craziest road he's ever been on. He actually got dizzy driving on the way back. These turns were insane!

Quite a welcome sign ...

Because we procrastinated on making our reservations, we weren't able to find a hotel room until Sunday, so we left Sunday morning. It was early Sunday afternoon by the time we checked in. We hurried to change into our gear and set out for the mountain.

I still had my Keystone run-in in the back of my mind, so I was hesitant to go too fast, and having to anticipate other skiers' movements made me nervous. I felt like it was my first time skiing again.

We got a good 4 hours in on the slopes before calling it a night at about 7:30. We headed straight to a nearby restaurant for dinner, and then we went back to the hotel. We'd planned on hitting up the hot tub, but I felt awful.

I was getting sharp stomach pains in waves. I was actually doing the math, wondering if I was going to wind up on one of those I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant shows (our May wedding WAS 9 months ago!). I had hoped there would be a little romance involved in our first solo trip, so I'd packed a nice little nightie. It never left my suitcase. I actually got up sick a few times during the night.

We got up early the next morning and headed to breakfast. The thought of putting even water into my body made me nervous, but I forced myself to eat a couple bites. We stopped off at the gift shop for some Pepto, and we headed to the slopes for a few more hours before we had to go back home.

It was snowing, and since it wasn't even 10 a.m. (the slopes opened at 9), the mountain was fairly clear. We got to ski on fresh powder! I felt more confident, and my first run was pretty darn fast.

We got quite a few runs in during the 2 hours or so that we skied, and each time I was more confident with weaving around people and anticipating their movements. K was my constant cheerleader. I did pretty well! I didn't fall once, either day!

The blue slopes at Snowshoe looked nicer than the "green" I'd attempted at Keystone. I actually considered trying one out, but K was hesitant to have me attempt that prematurely again. I think if I didn't have the whole Schoolmarm thing on my record, I'd have gone for a blue at Snowshoe (bonus points for rhyming!).

With the snowfall, we had to head out before the roads got bad. We passed so many small towns with huge fields of fresh, untouched snow. K and I were wishing we could stop and just mess it all up. How fun would that be?!

We got home at about dinner time. I still wasn't feeling great. I had slept a good part of the way home, but we were both exhausted. We unpacked and fell asleep just after 8:00.

Now that we're all rested, we're already talking about going back. Next time, though, we'll make a full weekend of it!

Feelin' that holiday frenzy

I have been a busy girl lately! It's finally my last week of work, and it couldn't come at a better time. Things have been sooooo slow. It's been maddening. I spend my days surfing the web for news stories, trying to find something to make the day go faster. I wind up spending more time on facebook than I care to, since I manage to work my way through the day's headlines pretty quickly. By the time I get home, I want nothing to do with the computer.

Anyway, I meant to do this a couple weeks ago, but I wanted to share our fun Christmas cards. We made two versions. It started out as a joke: Once we had selected our cards and chosen our photo to go on them, I asked K what he wanted them to say. He blurted out something silly, so I put it on the card to call him on his saracasm.















We thought it was so funny that we went ahead and ordered it! We got the minimum amount (12) and sent them to friends we knew wouldn't be offended or worried about having to hide it instead of putting it out with their other Christmas cards.

Everyone else got the standard well-wishing card.

We were very, very careful to make sure we sent the goofy card to the right people. I told K we'd never do the dual-card thing again, since I was worried we'd mess up.

The comments we got in response to the silly card, though, were pretty good. Maybe we will make it an annual thing!

Mars/Venus: Decorating

Before you start worrying that my husband has turned into a total chick since we started sharing a house, I had to share these stories and photos so there are no doubts that his testosterone levels are just fine.

I'll start by showing you a Before picture of our living room. Isn't it pretty?

Trouble is (though you can't quite tell it from this picture), it's pretty long and thin. We entered this house with two couches: my khaki micro-suede couch, and the green micro-suede sectional (and ottoman!) that K bought from Heather and B after they moved into their new house.

My couch wouldn't be enough seating for the room, meaning we'd have to buy something(s) to go along with it (another couch? a loveseat? armchairs?). But the sectional might be too overwhelming for such a narrow space.

What to do, what to do ...

K really wanted to hang on to the sectional, so we put it in the living room in the best position we could find for the space. I don't know that any designers would be in love with what we've done, but it works for us. It's functional, and there's plenty of nice, comfy seating. It was the best solution we could find to utilize the back door and avoid blocking the (ginormous) TV or fireplace.

As you look at these pictures, please keep in mind that we are SO still unpacking! The items on the mantle are just there so they don't get broken or chipped before we find a better place for them. The second photo here gives you the best idea of how the room looks from the front door, but it doesn't tell you how wide the room is(n't). The third photo accomplishes that a little too well. I promise it's not a tight squeeze to get around the couch, even though that photo makes it look like it is.

The tables behind the couch are going away, too. I plan on making a nice seating area on that side of the couch with a small armchair or rocking chair, along with a nice little table. That way, you're not entering our home to see the back of the couch.

The other decorations we will bring into the room (including a painting we can't hang until we find the perfect cabinet for it to hang above) will be bright and colorful to (hopefully) make up for the neutral walls and couch color. I promise also, though, that it doesn't look as dreadfully neutral in person as it does in these photos.

And last but not least, no, we did NOT do that faux marble treatment to the fireplace. We would love more than anything to paint over it (as well as the faux marble treatment on the entry door frame), but it's actually in our lease that we can't. That's right, the owners of the home actually paid someone to do that. (I KNOW!!!)

OK, now that I've given you all the disclaimers, you can look at the photos.

That left us with my khaki couch, which K didn't want to get rid of. We decided to put it in our 3rd bedroom, which we're using as an office. Only we couldn't get it inside -- it's too wide for the doorframe, even after the movers removed the door itself. (Boo!)

I told K we'd just have to sell the couch. For some reason, K really hated that idea. I explained to him that we had nowhere for it downstairs. It wouldn't fit through any doors upstairs. "The only way we can keep it is if we store it in the garage, covered." Of course, K didn't want that either.

"How about this?" he said to me, pausing before hitting me with what he was sure would be the solution to all our problems. "Stadium seating." I waited for him to start laughing, but instead, he started trying to show me how we could put the khaki couch directly behind the sectional.

I really almost started crying immediately.

Wow.

And then there are the two bedrooms -- the master and the guest room. Both of them are good-sized rooms. This means we have a few options for the placement of the beds.

For our bedroom, I was trying to decide which placement would offer the best utilization of space. Which would make it feel less cramped?

(My fabulous rendering of the layout of our room.)

K suggested we put the bed on the right wall of the room. He moved to that area, and he hit me upside the head with another blast of male "reasoning": "That way, if you have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, all you do is walk forward to get to the door. If we put it on the other wall, the person on the far side has to make their way around the bed in the dark." As he spoke, he was illustrating his point by climbing off an invisible bed, with quite a bit of fumbling around for the person on the right side of the bed.

Hmm. Interesting. Hadn't thought about it that way. Not that I get up often in the middle of the night to use the restroom, but whatever.

Then it came time to lay out our guest bedroom. I was trying to figure out if turning the bed sideways would make the room seem more spacious.

Yet again, K used the bathroom trip scenario to show how vertical placement of the bed would be easier. I laughed out loud that the design of our home in his head revolves around getting to the toilet.

Speaking of the guest room, we took all the tape down on Sunday, and we moved the furniture back into place. We still haven't hung anything on the wall just yet. K is happy with the color, but the jury may still be out for me. Hopefully once we get more furniture and decorations, the green will balance out a little. We'll see.

But I can take comfort in the fact that even if our guests are horrified by the shocking color of the walls, at least they'll have no problem getting to the bathroom in the middle of the night!

Mars/Venus: Household roles

After living by myself the last four years, I wondered what it would be like to finally have a roommate again -- especially since that roommate would be a man. The only males I've ever lived with were my dad and my brother. Not quite the same thing.

The biggest surprise in living with K is how sentimental he has been about everything. I've always been a sentimental person, but for some reason, I've been more anxious to get things done before I take a break.

After we finished unloading everything from our cars into the house the day we got our keys, I was anxious to get inside and start unpacking the few things we had with us. When I got to the door, though, K stopped me. "What? What is it?" I said. He picked me up and carried me over the threshold. Then, he wanted to hug, give me a kiss, and really take in the moment that we were in our first house together.

It was a sweet moment and everything, but after days of traveling, going from place to place, and living out of suitcases, I was anxious to finally start getting settled in.

The same thing happened the first time we used our new dishes. And the pots and pans. And the first time K cut the grass. And when we finished painting the guest bedroom.

After each "first" marker we reach, K wants to stop, take it in, hug, and give me a kiss. I want to photograph it, then clean up whatever we've messed up (whether it's cleaning dirty dishes, rinsing paintbrushes, or putting away the lawnmower). I know you're supposed to stop and smell the roses, but I'd much rather smell them AFTER we've completely finished the task, when I can really relax.

And remember how clueless I am when it comes to cooking? Well, now that I have a boy roommate who* I happened to have married, I'm supposed to know how to cook. He doesn't expect it of me, but somehow, I all of a sudden expect it myself. I want to be able to cook for him.

Trouble is, we registered for some nice stuff -- stainless steel pots and pans, really nice knives, a pretty and expensive wooden cutting board ... All of these things have to be handwashed to keep them looking nice, which means I spend a lot of time handwashing dishes, which means I have become ridiculous about keeping the kitchen clean and pretty. (Also? Those really nice knives are really sharp, which means I have used a lot of Band-Aids lately.)

Along with K's sentimentality comes his eagerness to use our shiny new kitchen gadgets. "Is it lame that I want to use our new pasta pentola, even though this is a small amount of pasta?" he asked one night when we were making a quick boxed dinner because dinnertime snuck up on us with all the unpacking.

"Yes! I don't want to have to wash them just for that amount. We'll make spaghetti tomorrow. How's that?"

We've had similar conversations a few times. Like tonight, when it came time to use lettuce as a garnish (a garnish!!!) on the chicken enchiladas I'd awkwardly, frustratedly, and painfully (literally -- I cut my finger slicing onions!) managed to put together for dinner. K actually wanted to use our food processor to slice the lettuce. Instead, I asked him to use the cutting board and chef's knife. Even though I'd just washed them from preparing dinner, doing it again would be easier than dragging out, figuring out, and cleaning out our unused food processor.

It's cute that K has been so sentimental about things. I'm usually a really sentimental person, so I certainly never thought I'd find a guy who would be more mushy about all these little firsts than me. Then again, maybe it's just my way of balancing us out. At least this way, I make sure K gets to the next sentimental marker that much faster.

*(Sorry, I hate the word "whom.")

We're like the Sonic couple, only cooler

K (who's half-Italian): "They have this sandwich called the Italian."
Me (being a ball-buster): "Sounds disgusting."
K: "It has pepperoni on it."
Me: "Did you not hear me?"
K: "Babe, part of marriage is blowing the other person off."

Exciting things

Because I can't leave you with just that post after such a long break:

• Look! A homecoming picture (more later, really really really, I promise!)!

• My wedding dress is in! (I haven't run in weeks ... here's hoping it zips up!)
• K and I are going to be famous! (OK, not quite.) There's a media outlet that does a little love story-type feature, and K and I got interviewed for it today!

How did I almost forget to share this story?

Last Saturday, the OU game was a pretty big deal. ESPN GameDay was there, and the outcome was going to make history no matter who won, not to mention the effect it would have on bowl contenders. The game started at 7:15.

K called me that night, and we talked until a little before 7. Even though it was 4:15 a.m. in Iraq, he was going to stay up and watch the game.

My husband, who I really worried/freaked out in September of 2005 by crying because we lost to TCU (Hello! It was the first game of the season!!! At home!!!! To TCU [who would actually turn out to be pretty good that year, but who saw that coming? Clearly we didn't!]!!!!!!).

We were in New Jersey at the time for the wedding of one of his closest friends. I had decided it would be OK to go only because it wouldn't be that big of a game, so I could justify missing it. It was my first game after I had graduated, so it was my first time to know OU was playing football and I was not there in my uniform to show my support.

When I found out we were losing, I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do. It was awful. So I cried.

K said to me, "Are you serious? Are you serious right now? It's just a game."

"Just a game?!" I shrieked, before filling him in on all that that loss could potentially mean for our season.

Eventually, thank goodness, K began to find my love of Sooner football endearing. He even told me that since he had never been to a football school in high school or college (while I've never NOT attended a football school. Seriously, there were less than 500 people in my entire high school, and two of our football players now play for the NFL), he would never be able to fully understand or relate to my dedication and love for the Oklahoma Sooners, but he was glad that I have that.

Over the course of this football season, K has actually referred to the OU football team as "we" and "us." When I told my dad this exciting news, his response was, "He just might work out."

But last week ... last week really did make me fall in love with K a little bit more. Not just the fact that he stayed up to watch the game even though he had a cold. He actually called me at halftime to give me a "Boomer!" and talk about how awesome "we" looked and how "our" defense was kicking a$$.

We had a comfortable lead, so he was going to bed -- as he should. By that time, it was after 6 a.m. for him!

K called me Sunday night, and his voice sounded awful. He could barely speak, since a night of staying up late had enabled his cold to get to him a little more. He was exhausted, but he was happy. He said something about the third quarter.

"What? I thought you went to bed at halftime."

"I was going to, but I couldn't. I was too excited."

Just when I thought he couldn't get any sexier ...

The last week of R&R

I already wrote about the majority of Day 12 of K's R&R. After we finished the balloon ride, we headed to OK to see my family. We got to my hometown that Tuesday night, and we spent Wednesday hanging out with my dad. He and K went golfing, and I went with them to walk the course.

K taught me how to swing a club while we were there. The closest to a real game of golf I'd ever come was miniature golf -- not quite the same. Swinging the club felt a bit unnatural, and I have no idea who decided all the rules and developed the proper technique to do it, but I did pretty well for my first shot! The ball went straight, which my brother made sound like is tough to do on your first swing when I talked to him later that afternoon.

That night, my dad cooked us the same dinner he has to make every time I go to Oklahoma. He's a butcher, so it's his job to know meat. This means he grills pretty much the best steak you'll ever eat in your life. We had that, salad and baked potatoes, and after we were all completely stuffed, we spent the evening sitting outside talking under the stars -- nice and relaxing.

We headed back to Dallas early the next afternoon. Over the next few days, we did quite a bit of wedding planning. We met with our photographer and our reception coordinator, and we interviewed two DJs. We spent pver 3 hours choosing place settings, kitchen appliances, and pots and pans. Luckily, almost everything we chose was a mutual decision (I compromised on his choice for our everyday dinnerware).

One night, we met up with AJ, Heather and B, and Elle for Mexican food and a silly night at our favorite piano bar. Oh my gosh, we had so much fun!

We girls danced and sang, exhausted ourselves, rested, and danced and sang some more. In one of the pictures below, I'm pretty sure I'm yawning while dancing. I was pretty hot from breakin' it down (ha!), so Elle took the liberty of cooling me off by putting her ice cold beer bottle against my neck -- and spilling her beer in the process. I love that it's all captured on film!

We also got a nice, long laugh when a girl at the table next to us actually passed out on K's shoulder. A minute or so later, she sat up, looked at K and said, "Your shoulder is really comfortable," and went back to sleep. We were all rolling over that one.







































































































































































































Those last few days, we spent a lot of time to ourselves. That Saturday night, we went for Italian ice in a cute little shopping center. We sat outside enjoying our ice cream and just talking and laughing about different things from our day. It was so relaxed, simple and just so us that as I look back, it's one of my favorite moments from the entire R&R.

We went to church on Sunday, and the pastor actually had K stand up so he could tell the congregation he was home from Iraq. It was sweet.

That Monday was our anniversary. In between DJ interviews, K and I went by the running store I'd been wanting to visit for a while. We both got fitted for shoes, and K bought mine for me. That should give me some good motivation to get out and run -- and one more reason to kick butt at the hal.f-marathon I'm running on Nov. 2.

Before I compromised on K's choice for our everyday dinnerware, we had gone to several home stores to try to find dishes that both of us really liked. At one of the stores, I managed to find a set of dishes that I absolutely loved. I knew they weren't K's style, so I didn't suggest that we get them, but it was like someone had made these dishes with me in mind. I loved them!

Days after we'd been to the store, I was still thinking the dishes, so I decided I was going to go back and get them. K even helped me justify the purchase: "You'll probably want a nice, different set of dishes if you have the girls over or something." Well, K wound up buying me the dishes as an anniversary present. Now I love them even more.

















That night, we tried to figure out where we wanted to go to dinner to celebrate our anniversary. We looked at several very nice restaurants in the area. Honestly, though, hardly anything on the menus sounded appetizing to me -- if I even knew what any of it was. K felt the same way. We talked about just going to Ol!ve Garden or something (at least we both know we like that place!). Still, we wanted to do something a little different.

I remembered a restaurant I'd randomly found a couple years ago with ER, her mom and her aunt. It was a random, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that didn't look that special from the parking lot. Inside, though, is romantic and authentically Italian. And the food is delicious. I had intended to take K there at some point, but I'd just forgotten about it. We decided to go there for dinner for our anniversary, and I'm so glad we did! K loved it. There was a rose on each table, and the restaurant was quiet and almost empty on a Monday night. The food was obviously homemade, and it was delicious. We'll definitely be going there again!

The next day, we went to Spr!nkles for the first time. Man, do they have some yummy cupcakes! Since we'd stuffed ourselves so much over K's trip, we decided to stay in for a healthier dinner that night. We marinated some chicken and cooked rice and broccoli. We used my pretty new dishes, and the flowers K had gotten me as an anniversary present made a nice little centerpiece as well (yes, I have a dining room table, but I hate it -- it was free -- and I hardly ever use it).
















































It was good to spend our last night to ourselves. Too quickly, it was Wednesday, and K was on his way back to Iraq.

The first two weeks (believe it or not, since it took me so long to get these posts up) d r a g g e d b y. After that, I was finally readjusted to the routine that had gotten me through the 9+ months of the deployment that had passed before R&R.

At least now we're just a week away from 11 months, and we're only a little over 3 months away from K being home for good. And if that time goes by as quickly as K's R&R, then he'll be home safe and sound before we know it.

Day 12

We got back from PA on a Monday evening. We picked up dinner on the way back to my apartment, and we spent a relaxing night in. I told K we needed to get to bed a bit early since we had an early morning the next day -- and that's all I told him. The next day was the big surprise I'd planned for K for our first anniversary -- the hot air balloon ride.

Our anniversary is Sept. 22, but I scheduled the balloon ride for the 16th so we'd have plenty of time to reschedule in case the weather was bad. The 16th actually wound up being the perfect day for the surprise for a reason I hadn't even thought of: Before K's R&R, the most time we'd spent together consecutively was 11 days. We had always said once we finally hit Day 12, we'd have to do something special to celebrate.

Sept. 16th was Day 12.

I woke up around 5:15 that morning. I had hardly slept because I was worried we'd oversleep and miss our balloon ride. I even had a dream that K's ex-fiance had taken K on a balloon ride, but he had never told me. In the dream, when he realized that was my surprise for him, he told me he had hated the ride and thought it was a waste of time. Needless to say, I was anxious to get on the road and finally have the surprise out in the open.

I let K sleep a little later while I got ready for the day. When he got up, I told him to dress for hiking -- wear tennis shoes, jeans, and layers on top. We left my apartment a little before 6.

We drove and drove, and finally around 6:45, we arrived at our destination: a bakery. I didn't know what to expect when we arrived -- would there be a balloon all ready for us to go, or would we go on to another place to take off?

Well, there was no balloon in the parking lot. There was a van with a large basket on the back of it, but no balloon. I hoped K wouldn't see the basket and figure everything out. Thank goodness, he didn't. (Additional benefit of a sunrise balloon ride: Your clueless passenger is too out of it to piece together what's going on.)

When we walked inside the bakery, a man and woman were standing, drinking coffee. They said my name, and I nodded. K and I went up and introduced ourselves. The woman was wearing a ball cap with a hot air balloon embroidered on it. Her sweatshirt had six hot air balloons on it, and her dangly earrings were actually in the shape of hot air balloons (I had to look at them for a few seconds before I realized what the were). Her husband wore a polo shirt advertising the balloon company.

The woman looked at K. "Are you excited? Are you ready?" she asked. K nodded. "Do you know what you're doing yet?"

"Not a clue," K answered quickly. We all laughed, and the woman started telling me where we'd go from there and what we'd do to set up. Several seconds later, K said, "Aaand now I see the shirts. ... Got it. I'm a little slow -- still not fully awake."

We headed out to the van, and we all rode out to a little airport nearby. The man and woman had explained to us that they were a little light on the crew, since it was a weekday, so they'd need our help preparing the balloon for our ride.

K and I were excited to get to help them prepare the balloon. The man and woman pulled it out of a huge canvas bag. We turned the basket on its side, and we laid the balloon, which was rolled up length-wise, in front of it. The woman told us the balloon was 7 stories tall. (Wow!)






































We started slowly and carefully unrolling the balloon, making sure to pull it from the canvas seams instead of the actual balloon material. Then, we made sure it was completely spread out. The man put a fan at the bottom near the basket. He gave K and me each a pair of gloves and showed us how to step on the bottom part of the balloon and to grab the top so the air from the fan (once it was turned on) could get inside the balloon.

As K and I did our part at the bottom of the balloon, the man and woman went around to the top and continued to spread the balloon out. Pretty quickly, it began to fill with air. It was a cool morning to begin with, so having a huge fan blowing straight at me got a little cold, but it was really neat to watch the balloon fill up.





















































After several minutes, the man came back to the bottom end of the balloon and started using the burners. They had warned us that the burners would seem close, but that we wouldn't be in danger of getting burned by the flames. I had to keep reminding myself that as I stood just a couple feet away from the large flame and could easily feel the heat coming from it.

















Very quickly, the balloon started rising, and the basket started slowly raising along with it. The woman ran to where K and I were standing and told us to put all of our weight against the edge of the basket to keep it in place. Her husband had climbed inside to continue prepping the balloon, so K, the woman and I were all leaning against the balloon as it slowly tipped upright.

All of a sudden, they were telling me to get into the balloon. Quickly and clumsily, I hurled myself into the balloon. K was right behind me. Then, before I knew it, we were several yards into the air and climbing quickly.











































It was then that it occurred to me to be scared. I had realized that we were basically in a giant basket. "You kind of have to have a lot of faith in wicker to do this," I said to our pilot.

He reassured me that we were standing on an actual floor sandwiched between all that wicker -- not to mention the fact there were cables from equipment in the balloon that ran across as well. We were safe, he promised. We weren't tipping or rocking, and the giant basket we stood in came above my waist.

I looked around at the gorgeous view of the sunrise and the open countryside, and I forgot about being scared and began to just enjoy the ride. It was peaceful up there.

















We could see for miles and miles in every direction. There we were, just enjoying the views around us, while the world below us went on about its business.

Around the homes below us, people were taking out trash, taking dogs outside, walking to their cars. Many of them waved at us, and we always waved back. Our pilot told us to be careful what we said in the balloon: "They can try to talk to us up here, but we'll never hear them. But they can hear everything you say up here clear as a bell."

It was funny to see the reactions different animals had to us. Dogs would run and bark, determined to try to find a way to catch us. Cows would look around them, but never up. Horses did look toward us. All the animals, though, tended to try to run from us (maybe the sound of the burner scared them?).

















So much about a balloon ride is dependent upon the weather. The amount of wind determines how far you're able to travel. Several times, our pilot mentioned how perfect the weather was for our ride. It was calm, but there was a light breeze that allowed us to simply float along peacefully. The temperature was comfortable. It was a beautiful, clear day.
















































We got pretty high up a few times, and others, we were gliding along just a few feet above the treetops. We lucked out when we flew over a lake. The pilot lowered us to just above the water so I could get a picture of the balloon's reflection in the pond below us.
















































The ride lasted about an hour. We wound up landing in an area the pilot sometimes uses to take off. Since you can't really know where you'll land when you take off, there's a chase crew that follows the balloon on the ground. Our chase crew was our pilot's wife in the van we rode in. We had a two-way radio in our balloon that the man used to talk to his wife to help her follow us on the ground.

To land the balloon, our pilot did what he called "walking the balloon" so he could get us to a certain area of the field we were landing in. We got very close to the ground and actually touched a few times. In fact, we landed several times before we actually landed. Some of the landings were very smooth -- we simply touched down to the ground for a few seconds -- while others were rough, feeling almost like the balloon would tip over.

Once we were in the general area where our pilot wanted to really land, he put us down for good. This one wasn't as good of a landing, and almost in slow motion, the balloon slowly tipped more and more to the side. I wasn't sure if it was going to balance itself out and fall flat again, but I leaned back and back, trying to keep my arms in the balloon like they'd told us to do in case the balloon landed on its side.

Sure enough, it completely tipped over. Our pilot and his wife had also told us not to climb out of the balloon until they told us to, since it would still be very much inflated, and the only thing keeping it on the ground would be the weight of those of us inside. It was only a few seconds before the pilot told me to get out. I crawled out of the balloon, and K was out behind me a few seconds later. The balloon deflated pretty quickly.





















































K and I helped the pilot and his wife push all the air out of the balloon and roll it back up. I put Velcro straps on it every few feet as our pilot, his wife and K all gathered it back into the humongous canvas bag. They put the basket back onto the back of the van, and we all piled in and headed off to a park for the celebratory champagne toast that traditionally follows a hot air balloon ride. On the way there, our pilot told us we had traveled over 15 miles in the balloon! He and his wife kept talking about how perfect the weather was for a balloon ride.

When we got to the park, we sat down in a gazebo, where our pilot and his wife poured us mimosas in keepsake champagne glasses with "First Flight" and a hot air balloon etched into the glass.

































They told us the history of hot air balloons, and they gave us certificates with our names, balloon number and a photo of the balloon on them. I reminded K that the traditional first anniversary gift is paper, so our little certificates were the perfect way to remember the ride.

















We stayed and talked awhile longer as our pilot and his wife, who have both been balloon pilots for many years, told us all kinds of stories of their own and from friends in ballooning. Some of the stories were (thankfully and purposefully) specifically not told to us until after the balloon ride, but it was nice to just relax, enjoy mimosas and talk about our neat experience while the rest of the city was rushing around to begin the day.

When we got back in my car to head home again, K told me he had actually always wanted to go on a hot air balloon ride. We had both loved it. It was definitely a neat way to celebrate our first wedding anniversary -- and it was a memorable, perfect way to celebrate finally reaching Day 12.