Sweet

Chad called me last Friday afternoon to say he had a little surprise for me when I got home from work.

This isn't unusual for Chad (I know, I'm spoiled) - and he often has done something sweet for me like bought me a pretty bouquet of flowers, or a card or a special dessert to welcome me home on Fridays.

But I walked into the house and there was a lovely packaged bag from GreenPea Baby (my favorite baby boutique in the area) with the softest KissyKissy onesie, a Sophie teether (we bought one like it for baby James last week) and "chewbeads" --- which is a 'necklace' I can wear and not care if the baby chews and drools all over it.


I thought it was so sweet that Chad spent part of his Friday morning walking around a baby store picking up some things he thought baby and I would like.

I know it's the understatement of the century, but we sure are lucky to have him. Unfortunately for Chad, if he ever gets sick of my antics and decides to up and leave me... I'm packin' my bags and following him. I can promise you that I'd never find one better.

Chad's kinda gift

So I had Bible study last night and one of my small group girls, RobinAnn, brought the sweetest gifts for Jack.

When I brought the package home that night to show Chad - he zoned right in on it...


"IS THAT HANDY MANNY?!?!?"

Indeed. Indeed it is.

Jack's first Handy Manny toy - which is Handy Manny that comes with a motorcycle with detachable tailpipes. Chad was PUMPED. He quickly pulled all the pieces out to assemble it. I think Chad might love it as much as our boy is going to!

We have such great friends. Thanks RA!

(If this post makes no sense to you, see this or this.)

Sweets

My husband has quite the sweet tooth. Since I'm trying to seriously limit my sweet intake (thanks gestational diabetes!), I don't really keep many sweets around the house.

Last night this came to a head.

Chad: "I need something sweet to eat."
Me: "Look around the pantry, I'm sure you'll be able to find something."
Chad: "No, we don't have anything."
Me (looking for myself): "We have a whole package of your favorite Reese's eggs. Have one of those?!"
Chad: "Your mom bought me like 12 packages. That's all I've been eating for months!"
Me: "Well I don't know what to tell you then."
Chad: grumble, grumble, grumble
Me: "Hey, we have that good sunflower bread we got from Papa Spuds, and the local honey we bought at the market this weekend. Toast some of that bread and put some butter and honey on top."
Chad: "I don't live in the mountains."
Me: "What does that even mean?"
Chad: "Only hippies would eat bread with honey as dessert."

Point taken. He's got it rough, doesn't he?

Chad and Pigs

Chad's love affair with all things swine has been well-documented on this blog.

Here, here and here for reference.

I don't mean just eating it - though he is no doubt a fan of that. But whenever we see a pig ANYWHERE - on a TV commercial, as a stuffed animal, etc., Chad is always drawn toward it.

So when I came across this Hammered Iron Patio Pig Bench on Plow and Hearth, I had this overwhelming desire to want to buy it for the porkchop in my life.


So I sent him an email saying: "Why do I want to buy you this?!"

His immediate (less than 10 second later) respond: "That is AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Since Chad's 30th birthday party is going to be (appropriately) a big pig pickin', I've been looking for weeks for inspiration. Unfortunately, most of the "pig parties" I've seen online are geared toward 5-year-olds... and while Chad does often act like a kindergartner, I was hoping for something a littttttttle more upscale. I guess as "upscale" as you get with pigs.

So if anyone has any great ideas for me, please let me know!

Can't fool Chad

Since we're having some landscaping work done, Chad took off work today to oversee the progress. Still, I convinced him that it would be reallyyyyy nice if he still woke up with me at 6:30 a.m. this morning to keep me company. I made us both breakfast - the half english muffin, slice of cheese, egg and turkey sausage.

Well.... let's just say Chad wasn't such a fan of the sausage.

Chad (chewing): "Ugh, what's this?!"
Me: "Turkey sausage... it has a lot less fast."
Chad: "I can tell."
Me: "I don't mind it. It's just chewier."
Chad: "No, I'll tell you what it is - it's an impostor. It's a turkey wearing a pig costume. And I don't buy it."

I'm telling ya, don't mess with Chad's pork products. He feels strongly about his swine.

Debate - Need your vote

So Chad and I had a debate this morning (yes, we debate at 7 a.m.) And I'm going to start a poll on the top right hand of the blog so you can help us solve it.

Here was our convo (both our initials are CB so you won't be roped into taking sides):

CB: Can you put some toast in the oven for breakfast?
CB: Do you want toast or do you want a grilled cheese?
CB: Ummmm, toast?! Grilled cheese is NOT a breakfast food.
CB: ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Of course it's a breakfast food!
CB: Show me a breakfast menu with grilled cheese listed as a breakfast item and I'll concede. I'm not saying you can't eat grilled cheese for breakfast. But you could eat spaghetti and meatballs for breakfast, it doesn't make it a breakfast food.'
CB: You are crazy.
CB: YOU are crazy.

So there you have it.

The question is:
Is grilled cheese considered a breakfast food?

The winner gets a 5 minute backscratch (our standard our betting.) Vote people!

3 Years

So here's how it went.

Chad and I met each other about 9 years ago.


We started dating about 5.5 years ago.


We got married 3 years ago, today.


We've had a lot of fun times since then.

I mean, A LOT of fun times.

And now we're making a person together. A real-life representation of our commitment to each other. A little piece of me and a little piece of Chad made into one perfect little boy. It's the craziest thing ever, I'll tell ya. He might have my hair and Chad's eyes. My smile and Chad's laugh. My ability to memorize rules of comma placement and Chad's ability to memorize comedy quotes. I bet he'll pout like I do when he doesn't get his way, and whine like his daddy does when he doesn't feel good. But he'll be ours. A baby "us." I'm so excited for it.

So happy anniversary to my sweetest husband. You are seriously the most wonderful and precious part of my life here on earth. I can't wait to grow a family together. I'll love you forever.

Rude: Veggie Tales

Bringing back rude - from here, here, here, here and here.

Sooo, I'm just going to put it out there. Sometimes men say ridiculous things. Things so ridiculous you just stare, opened mouthed for a few minutes until you can find the right words.

This weekend, as we were driving to church, Chad says to me:

"We really need to do a better job about eating vegetables."

WHAT?!?!?!?! I wanted to be like, "Oh hi Chad, I'm not sure if you remember me but I'm your wife Caroline. You know, we've been together for about 6 years. Share a bedroom. That kinda stuff."

Does he not even know who I am?!

IIIIIIII need to eat more veggies? With pregnancy hormones pumping through me, it took all the restraint I had not to punch him in the nose.

Because, first of all, by making a comment that "we" need to eat more vegetables --- which, let's be honest, really means ME... because if he was talking about himself he would have just said "I." So if he's saying I need to eat more vegetables, that means he thinks I'm eating crap.

And, for the life of me, I don't know where he gets this from. Coming from the guy who could... and often does... eat potato chips and ice cream every day of his daggum life! I mean - the man still looks really good so I can't hate on him. But not me.

Ask anyone who really knows me what I need to eat more of.

Meat, they might say. Or protein, more specifically. Fiber... because, well, everyone could use more fiber.

But NO ONE would EVER say that I need to eat more vegetables. Because I LOVE vegetables. I might not finish all my pasta... or all my chicken... but you will NEVER see leftover veggies on my plate. And often, they are the one thing I'll get refills of.

Ask my Bible study girls who laugh at me because during any given meal, half of my plate is a mountain of salad.

Ask my mother... who has fed me for the past 27+ years.

I would normally say ask my husband - but he has somewhere along the line decided that I don't eat enough vegetables. And this coming from the man who really does NEVER eat vegetables.

Okay this rant is getting wayyyyy to long. The point is - if the man wants to see vegetables... I'm gonna give him some vegetables. I would be perfectly content to cut meat out of our meals completely. So last night began "Caroline's Reign of Veggies."


Our dinner: veggie sandwiches. Rye-pumpernickle swirl bread with spinach, cucumber, tomato, red onion, avocado and sprouts.

Let's see how long it takes before he starts begging for meat back.

When the husband's away...

My mister has a job where every year and a half, he goes through an "outage" where he has to work 12+ hour days, 6 days a week. He wakes up about 4:30 a.m., and doesn't get home until about 6:30 p.m.

It stinks. But it's a small price to pay in the scheme of things - it's a great job and we're thankful for it.

So while Chad's gone all day, I do my best to keep some sort of normalcy (to the extent I can) in our lives at home. We usually eat dinner around 6 p.m. - but now, it's more like 7 p.m. When he goes to bed around 8:30, I get in bed with him. Just little things, so that his schedule (at least while home) doesn't feel completely out of wack.

However, coming from a family where food is the ultimate comfort, I think making sure there are yummy dinners waiting for Chad when he gets home is one of the most important things. That and fixing him hearty lunches and delicious desserts (to share with coworkers of course) to bring to work.

Yesterday, I made a delicious homemade chicken tortilla soup that I let simmer on the stove for a good 6 hours. It hit the spot. And even a grouchy Chad after a long day at work made a point to comment more than once how much he loved it.

Take a look:
I'm ready to make another pot again soon!

A very special day

My husband was born 29 years ago today. And although I wasn't even around to know it then, that day would set into motion a series of events that would end up bringing us today many years later.

So I'm so thankful for this day.

I don't think I've ever mentioned on my blog - but my darling Chad is adopted. So I somehow always find this time pretty emotional. As much as I'm so thankful for Chad today, there are a few other people who always come to mind.

I give thanks to Chad's birth mother (who no, we don't know who she is) - for making an extremely hard decision, and at a very young age, that she was not able to raise Chad in a way he deserved, and for making the choice to put him up from adoption.

I give thanks to the Baptist Children's Home who kept, and loved, and prayed for Chad during the 30-day waiting period where he had to stay until the time elapsed when his birth mother could change her mind. I don't know why this always makes me so emotional - but to think there was a group of complete strangers who loved on my Chaddy for such a short, but important time, always overwhelms me with gratefulness.

I give so much thanks to Chad's parents. There is zero doubt in my mind the moment Chad was created, God intended him to be their son. Whenever I talk to Chad's mom about adoption - silly questions like if they had wanted a girl or a boy - her answer is always the same: "We wanted Chad. We wanted Chad. We wanted Chad."

Let me be clear: There is no life that God creates without a family who was purposed to love them.

I am so thankful to my precious Lord and Savior - because I've done absolutely nothing to deserve it... but He chose Chad for me. Every ounce of my being knows it. There is no one else for me. And the day I said my vows to him... and Him... I swore to myself I would never let a single minute pass without having Chad know that I love him with all of me. I can't kiss him enough, snuggle him enough, laugh with him enough, or tell him that I love him enough.

Chad is the smartest, sweetest, gentlest, kindest, funniest and most loyal and loving man I know.

So I'm just overwhelmed with love and thanks today. Happy birthday to you.

God gave me you for the ups and downs.
God gave me you for the days of doubt.
For when I think I’ve lost my way,
There are no words here left to say, it’s true...


... oh Chad - God gave me you.

Handy Husband: The Result

So my very own Handy Manny -- with the help of his talking tools... and his dad -- finally finished our beautiful new kitchen table and benches that I blogged about awhile back.

And. it. is. breathtaking.


A lot of time, effort and hard work went into the table, and I'm so glad the end-result shows every ounce of it. We (and by we, I mean not me at all) modified the version we were originally going to make, and I'm so glad. I think the table legs are gorgeous. And although the table is still "rustic," it still has a polished feel thanks to some gorgeous stain and coats of poly.

Thanks to a suggestion of my dear friend, blog reader and fellow blogger Amy, we chose an English Chestnut stain that was just perfect. It is deep, rich and warm... and fits perfectly with the rest of our decor.

I'm in the process of ordering a small brass plate that we can attach to the underside or side of the table with Chad and his dad's names as the builders - along with the date they built it and the age of the wood. Chad's dad believes the wood is more than 100 years old... and it was the wood that constructed Chad's late great-grandmother's house. It is chock full of so much character- gorgeous worm holes and pits and divots.

It is a show piece with such a story behind it. We can't wait to enjoy holiday celebrations, dinners with friends, and festive celebrations on it for years to come. And best of all, it's a piece that we can pass on to our future generations.

So a big round of applause and lots of hugs and kisses to my sweet Chaddy for such an awesome job. You constantly amaze me.

All finished:
In its new home:

I'm not sayin'...

...I'm just sayin'.

Irritation

I've already shared with you all some things that annoy me.

Here are a couple that Chad.

1) Cyclists. Don't even get him started. We've had many a' blowout over Chad wanting to roll down the window while driving to yell at them. It's bad. Real bad.

Frequent outbursts include the phrases:

"Nice logo suit. Are those your sponsors, Lance Armstrong?"

"Move over f%#fg^&%$." (insert curse word of your choice.)

"WHY DO THEY THINK THEY'RE ABOVE THE LAW?!?"
2) People who have those flip flop decals on their cars (bonus hate points for people that have one for every member of the family.) Chad: "What does that even mean?!? They like flip flops?" Me: "No, I think it means they like the beach." Chad: "That's the stupidest thing I've ever seen."

Wordsmithing

Snippet of conversation Chad and I had last night before bed:

Things you need to know ahead of time-
1) I made homemade hot crab dip this weekend with our leftover crabbies.
2) Chad always forgets to bring his lunch.

Me: "Don't forget to bring that crab dip I packed for you to lunch tomorrow. And don't forget to pack some pita with it."
Chad: "Did you already cut them up into the little triangles?"
Me: "No, just bring a whole piece and you can tear it off yourself at work."
Chad: "Well then why did you yell at me when I tried to tear it for my parents?"
Me: "Because we were entertaining. Besides, there was a knife and cutting board for it out already."
Chad: (sigh)
Me: "Fine, just cut the pita bread in half and then stuff it with the crab dip like a sandwich."
Chad: "I can't eat a dip sandwich. That makes me sound like such a fatty. 'Hey, what are you eating today?' 'Nothing, a dip sandwich."
Me: "Then don't call it a crab dip sandwich. Call it a crab spread on pita."
Chad (satisfied): "Okay. I'll do that."

And that, my friends, is why people call us PR folk 'spin doctors.' And I can spin it like the best of 'em.

It's the little things...

In an effort to keep our grass, plants, trees and flowers alive in the brutal North Carolina summer sun, we decided to suck it up and pay to have an irrigation system installed.

There was a crew of about seven people ready to work bright and early Saturday morning.

And my husband was up bright and early with them.

I, on the other hand, let myself sleep in until 8:30... at which time I slipped on a comfy robe, poured myself a cup of coffee, and went looking for Chad.

I had to smile when I looked out from the porch to see Chad - hands in the dirt with the landscapers - watching and learning.

That man is just like his daddy. Can't keep himself away from the action.

I dated some pretty boys in the past that would much prefer using a valet as opposed to parking their own cars... who would rather pay someone to mow their yard than get out there and do it themselves... the type that would rather call a plumber than fidget around under the sink...you get the picture.

Well let me just say that there is nothing- NOTHING -more attractive than a man's man that likes to get his hands dirty. I secretly love that he has a horrible farmer's tan from his time out working in the yard (and, I won't lie, on the golf course.) And I love when he comes inside with that man smell that all guys have after spending at least an hour outdoors in the heat. I love that he leaves a pair of ratty, muddy shoes at EVERY entrance into our house. And... dare I say it... I looooove him pulling up in the afternoons in his big ol' pick-up truck.

What can I say. He still makes me swoon.

To have, to hold, to stick needles into

So - trying to be vague (personal reasons) while still telling a story that I know I'll laugh at one day - last night I was supposed to give myself a shot.

Truth: I don't do shots. I finally have gotten to the place where I'll let a medical professional give me a shot... but I think your body has some sort of fundamental survival mode that doesn't allow you to stick needles into your own flesh. For good reason, I think.
So anyway, I had spent a few days giving myself pep-talks about how "it won't be a big deal, it's not going to hurt, etc." But every time I even thought about the needle I'd freak myself out.

I finally decided that Chad was going to have to give me the shot. He gives himself allergy shots every other week, so it's NBD to him. I actually think he was looking forward to an idea of sticking me in the abdomen (yes, had to get the shot in my stomach. AH! aren't you freaking out just thinking about it?)

So I told Chad that 7 p.m. was shot time. It took all my willpower to just move forward with it. So I'm lying on our bed waiting... and waiting... and waiting...as he decides (as I swear he does on purpose) to take his sweet time and go start a load of laundry, wander from room to room aimlessly, etc. The longer I wait, the more I start freaking out... so I beg him to hurry up and get it over with.

I'm lying there taking deep breaths... thinking I'm doing pretty good... and I open my eyes and see Chad standing over me with a big ol' needle. I FLIPPED out. Burst out crying. Hysterically panting.

I must have said "No, no, no, no" repeatedly for a few seconds.

Chad promises me it won't hurt, I won't even feel it, it'll be over with before I even know I have a big piece of metal sticking me in the skin to pump me with medicine.

I calm down a bit and let him proceed. He gets within inches of my stomach and I start crying, shrieking, freaking out again.

Me: "OMG I canNOT do this."
Chad (tapping the needle to get the air bubbles out): "Stop Carrie, it's going to be fine."
Me: "No no no. What if I get an embolism from an air bubble. I could die." (this girl has watched "Grey's Anatomy" and "House"... I know my medical info.)
Chad: "First, it's not even going directly into the bloodstream. Second, it's a tiny little amount. It's not going to do anything."
(more tears and shrieking ensues)
Me: "Okay just hurry. Don't tell me when you're doing it."

Then I inspect to make sure he's aiming at the proper area of my abdomen, and then squeeze my eyes shut.

So he did it. It didn't hurt. But still - it was terrifying. I've been giving myself the heeby-jeebies all day just thinking about him standing over me with a syringe. It was like a not-cool, super creepy episode of "Dexter."

What, three TV show references in one post too much?

Whatevs.

But it's over and done with. Sheesh. The things you end up having to do for the ones you love.

Handy Husband

So I'll start out by saying I'm a darn lucky woman.

Chad's current work schedule allows him to take every other Friday off - and every Friday off during the summer. I get jealous even thinking about it. I hate having to drag my butt up to work on Friday mornings with Chad getting to spend the day at home - nevermind that it's not like he sleeps in much later, and usually spends the whole day doing errands, cleaning, etc. Yes ladies, my husband does errands and cleans. Like I said, I'm lucky.

Well this morning, I get up and get in the shower... and Chad gets up and goes into the kitchen to make me coffee and a hot breakfast. Not only that, as I'm leaving, he's bringing a load of laundry to the laundry room - and is getting ready to clean the bathrooms. Lucky, right? Sometimes I need to pinch myself!

But anyway, this post didn't start out to be about how great Chad is - it was intended to be something else.

About this, in fact:
A couple years ago a commercial came on and I see this cartoon character that looks EXACTLY like Chad (if he were to be cartoonized).
Come to find out his name is Handy Manny. Do any of you know Handy Manny? You know, the one with the talking tools?

I swear he looks just like Chad. They even make the same expressions...

This is Chad with our "niece" Annie. She was like eight weeks old in this picture. Next month she turns 1. Where does time go!?"


This is Handy Manny:
So Handy Manny is now one of Chad's nicknames. And when I saw our little cousins over Christmas, I asked them if they knew who Handy Manny was... and if they thought he looked like anyone... eh hem, Chad... in particular. Of course they burst into giggles and spend the rest of the day running up to Chad taunting "Handy Manny, Handy Manny, Handy Manny..." Yep, he loved me for that one. ;)

So anyway, my little Handy Manny is about to start building us a kitchen table. I've been wanting a farmhouse style table with a bench for some time now. Luckily, our friends informed Chad about knock-offwood.com - a site where this woman goes to different furniture stores and deconstructs the plans to build them yourself.

So we're going to build this Farmhouse Salvaged Wood Table like this one at Restoration Hardware - which of course retails for $2,725...for just the table:



Though we'll probably do what the knock-off wood lady did and stain ours a darker color - like this:


This will be quite an undertaking - but it will be a fun project to do together!

Thankful

I didn't have the best day yesterday. In fact it started downright awful with lots of tears. But then I pull into the driveway Monday after work.

And Chad is standing on the front porch waiting to give me a big hug.

So I'm thankful for that. He's a keeper.

A night in the life...

So Chad and I frequently have heated arguments over pointless trivia.

Last night - Frozen pizza was the heart of our battle. We were fighting over what the biggest (not necessarily best) brands of frozen pizza were. The most well known. I said, Digorno and Tombstone. Chad said, Digorno and Red Baron. I argued that yes, while Red Baron is far superior than Tombstone, it is not as well known. Tombstone has been around making nasty pizzas forever. We were obviously not going to come to a concensus on our own.


We decided that we'd ask 10 people at work the next day their thoughts. But then we had an ever better idea.

We'd text 10 (actually 11 - in the event someone didn't respond... which turned out to be the case - eh hem STEPHEN) friends to gauge their response. As is usual with Chad and I, we debated on which 10 friends we would ask (according to Chad, they had to be a random assortment) and the wording of the actual text message.

So the message that went out was this:

Me and Chad are having a debate. What are the first two frozen pizza brands that come to your mind. Don't think, just respond. This text is going to 10 of you. (I lied - it went to 11.)

The results came pouring in - of course "my" friends were the first 5 to respond. "Chad's friends" were the late responders. BTW - We have all the same friends but I classify them as mine (friends that were originally mine, or stemmed from my friends) and Chad's (friends that were originally Chad's or stemmed from Chad's) - only when its convenient for me, of course.

Here's some highlights:

My sis-in-law, Mol, the first to respond - like a champion. "Digorno and Freschetta."
Chad quickly retorted: "She would say Freschetta. She went to Meredith (private girls college for you non-NC readers)."

My good friend Sarah: "Digorno and Tony's." And then a follow-up text of "And that was the best text I got all day. I can see you two have this debate." (she obviously knows us well)

David "The Fabulous Mr." Fox: "Digorno and Red Baron." Dang. First vote for Chad's Red Baron. Oh - why do I claim Foxy as "my" friend when he's closer friends to Chad? He's next door neighbors with my parents. Point in my column.

My bff Han: "Digorno and Tombstone." i.e.: What I said. We're soul sistas.

My bro Kev: "California Pizza Kitchen and Digorno."
To which I quickly retorted: "Kev doesn't count. He was probably drunk when he sent that." (Which is what we say to almost every text message from Kevin. Poor Kev. Being a frat guy gets you a bad rep.)

My brother Mikey: "Digorno and Tombstone. Chad said Red Baron didn't he?" (+2 for Mike for agreeing with me, AND anticipating Chad's answer. Bravo MB.)

My bff Kel: "It's not delivery, it's Digorno! And California Pizza Kitchen." Nice work from Kel for adding in the slogan. And she added some cred to Kev's CPK vote.

(lapse of text messages waiting for "Chad's" friends. Weak sauce. Next time, I expect quicker responses.)

Jamie: "Digorno and Totinos." Whaaaat? Who eats Totinos. Get outta here.

David: "Digorno and Red Baron." Damn Chad's friends eating his same types of pizza.

Now friends, notice that we had all nine responders (and then Chad and I) say Digorno as one of our two guesses. They obviously do a fabulous marketing job because their pizza still sucks - yet we all thought of them. Since it was now bedtime, and we hadn't heard from two straggler responders, I send out the recap text (requested by most of my subjects):

The results are in. Digorno:9. Tombstone: 2. CPK: 2. Red Baron: 2. Freschetta 1. Tony's: 1. Totinos: 1. Thanks for participating.

So I went to bed with some pride knowing that Chad and my answer tied. Even though I really thought there'd be more Tombstone votes. Unforunately, I woke up to a late tie-breaker text message from Zak.

Zak: "Totinos and Red Baron. Totinos is most often eaten by pedophiles."

Which made me laugh so hard I almost cried at 6:30 this morning. So even though Chad has now officially won with Zak's late Red Baron vote, we all are really the winners because none of us eat Totinos in the company of pedophiles.

Don't you wish you were friends with us? You could have this kind of excitment in your life. Chad and I decided this may or may not be a weekly thing for us. Random debate to be decided by text message death battle. Let me know if you want in.

Time flies

Today is our two year anniversary.


Isn't it crazy how fast time flies? I really feel like we just got married the other day... hard to believe it's already been two years! But I'll tell you one thing - it's been the best two years of my life.

There is a lot I love about being married. It's nice to have someone to wake up with and come home to. It's nice to know that there is always someone that has your back and will take your side. It's nice to feel protected and taken care of.

But what I think I love most about being married to Chad is that we have so much fun together. There is not a day that goes by that Chad does not have me laughing my head off. We're goofy together. We play. We don't take life too seriously.

But some days, marriage is tough. Some days we don't see eye to eye. And that's okay. We get through those days knowing that they are few and far between. We never let a day go by without telling the other that we love them.

Love isn't just a feeling - love is a choice.

And we've had some tough times in year two of marriage. We've bought and sold a house. We lived with in-laws for five months. We got through a major surgery. We struggled with infertility. There's been a lot of frustration and tears - but there's no one in the world I'd rather go through it with.

Every day I choose Chad.

He's my best friend.

And I'm so blessed.