'How I met your father'

I thought it was only fitting that since Joe and I celebrated our 7th year anniversary earlier this month, that I would write a post about how it all began 7 plus years ago (and before the month is over). So kids listen up, this is how I met your father...

It was a YSA dance. I was wearing a baby yellow checked top and jeans with a yellow flower in my hair, but of course he doesn't remember that. His response is ''well, I didn't fall in love with the top, I fell in love with the girl." Good response- Noah take note.

We were introduced by a mutual friend and I was shocked to learn (not in a bad way, but in a "no way!" way) that he was Uncle Joshy's little brother, who I had known for a little while ( and who never told me he had a cute little brother!). Anyway, though I thought he was nice looking, a little short, but definitely nice looking,  it didn't matter. I was happily taken at the time.

Fast forward a few weeks, and we are at a  roof-top birthday party, dancing together in a group again. We were chatting about what we do,  and getting a long quite nicely and I was newly single... perfect.
Until I got taken away by another guy, who somehow convinced me to leave the party for a 'quick' meal.  Elly take note- this is a trick. Instead you'll be stuck eating spring rolls and discussing Jane Austin, and the diverse ways of referencing university essays for over an hour! Not fun.

When I eventually returned to the party, I couldn't help but find myself looking at him, not the 'Jane Austin/referencing' guy,  but your daddy. Unfortunately, I didn't get to talk to him for the rest of the night. I just looked from a far and gathered information about him through a friend, who gave me some bad news. Apparently, he was after the birthday girl who happened to be a friend of mine (a very pretty one too). So why did I think he was checking me out the whole time? Oh yeah, because I caught him staring (on several occasions) and smiling to his friend with 'approval.' Trust me, it was that obvious!  But the last thing I remember about that night, was seeing him and the birthday girl exchanging numbers...bummer. So I assumed my friend was right, and I left it at that.

Fast forward agin to a week and we're at another dance. This time we bumped into each other in the hall way,  just as he had arrived with his 'date'- my pretty friend aka 'the birthday girl'.
However, his pretty date suggested something that changed the corse of the whole night, and our whole lives.

She said "I need to go to the loo..." Ok, it was more what she said in the next part... "go dance with these girls" (as in me, my sister and friends).  So he did. That's when it happened.

 It could have been my dancing, my quick whit, or the way I scoffed down a huge macca's meal in front of him later in the evening that could have done it, but it was done. He was smitten, and fell madly in love with me. ;)
I know for me, it was the way he made me laugh... all night, his smooth dance moves and the way he pulled off  his famous silly cross eyed trick... the same one that you kids love to see. Yep, I fell for it too.

Now don't worry, daddy wasn't a 'player' nor mummy a 'date wrecker.' Sure he ditched his original date that night, spend the whole night with me and then invited me to tag along with them to Macca's after the dance (which I gladly accepted), but that date was doomed from the start and quite frankly, I saved them both from the awkwardness of a bad date. Joe, you're welcome.

Your dad was quick to act. Did I mention he was smitten??? The next day he called me and organised a date. I had no idea what he had planned, which was probably a good thing because it was roller-blading. I suck at roller-blading. But that turned out to be a big plus, because he had to hold my hand the whole night- smooth move,very smooth. We spend the whole night laughing, falling, talking, and laughing some more. It was the most comfortable first date i'd ever been on. There were no awkward silent moments... none.

Kids that's how I knew. No, it wasn't  that I knew this was the guy I was going to marry (El, I expect you go on several dates with the guy... several! Before making any marriage revelations!), but I knew he would make a hell of a great friend... a best friend. Of course,  a 'best friend' equates to marriage potential- but that term sounded a whole less scarier when your 19.

Anyway, the rest is history. He did become my best friend and always will be. He is still making me laugh, fall (head over heels for him ;) and though he doesn't talk as much as he did on that first date, I sure make up for it. There are those silent moments, but they're still not awkward. Instead, they're nice and welcoming and all that matters is that we're in each other's company.

But the best thing that came out of this riveting 'Carms and Joe's love story' is you both. Your cheekiness, adventurous, cleverness, kindness, selflessness, and compassionate sides of you two, are all from him. Oh, and both your smiles. When you smile, your whole face smiles- mouth, eyes and all. Just like daddy.  It's because of him I have such wonderful children. No-one else could have given me my Elena and Noah just the way you are. But of course, your daddy has me to thank for both your good looks and olive complexion. ;)

 Well Kids,  that's my version of how I met your father. Feel free to ask your dad to fill in all the gaps and hear his version. It's quite interesting. Also, ask him if he really knew who was who between tia Mima and myself for the first part. ;)

My calling.

I was released from my church calling today. For almost 3 years I've been serving as the YW president of our branch. Not to mention the 2.5 years before that as a teacher and 2nd councillor in the YW program back in Brisbane. So I think it's fair to say that it was a welcoming change for me.

 I'm excited to see where I will be called into next. Though I wouldn't mind a little holiday, that never seems to be the case for me. Right from the time I turned 18 and given my first calling, it has never stopped and sometimes I don't mind that. I learn so much from my callings especially when I'm given the opportunity to teach. I love to teach.

I remember my first calling ever was teaching a small CTR 4 class. I loved those children. I still remember all their names and how it reinforced to me that teaching (as a career) was what I really wanted to do. 

I got that same feeling today when I volunteered to teach the primary children, as our primary president was absent. I found my-self jumping at the chance actually. I had no lesson prepared and I don't really know the kids or their names, but it just worked. I just so happened to have El's story book in my bag about an 'ugly bug' who felt so different from the rest and therefore wanted to make herself look like the others, only to discover that she is special just the way she was made. The kids really enjoyed this story, so it was so easy to turn this message into a fundamental principal that we are all children of God who were made special in our own way. By the end of the lesson, it felt like they had always been my class. They were such lovely children.

I loved hearing their responses to my questions, and how natural it felt for me to just teach, as well as that satisfaction that comes from their reactions to what they're being taught. It made me miss the career I left behind when I became a mother, as well as excited to return to it someday. But for now, I know that the most important thing for me is to be a full-time mother to my children. Though I must admit, sometimes I have to remind my-self that those long and tough 4.5 years at university weren't a big waste of time. Instead, I'm using that knowledge and those skills I developed to teach the most important children in the whole world... my own. Besides, my next calling might be to teach. Fingers crossed it's not Sunday school class though. I love teaching, but not that much! 

Note to self...

For as long as I live, I'm  vowing to never EVER live in the same place that we are doing major renovations to. Just to clarify... minor yes, major NO.

Joe has demoted me from 'supervisor', a role I was very comfortable with, to his 'apprentice' by default as there is no-one else but me. I'm not gonna lie, I make a terrible apprentice. But I'm slowly learning things like the difference between a nail and screw (who knew?!), and names of things that all sound like a foreign language to me. Right now, I'm finding all this renovating to be not what I was expecting. All those renovating shows Joe and I love to watch, make it look so do-able and dare I say, "FUN!?"

How is that possible? How!?

Oh, wait a minute. All the renovators have one thing in common... NO YOUNG CHILDREN! That's how  it's possible.

Yesterday, I was given my first task. I had to clean and prepare a window for Joe to install in our walk- in robe. Simple first task right? So I thought, until a job that would have taken a normal person 5 mins,10 mins max, took me around an hour. Here's why...

20 mins fighting over the hose...

20 mins of Noah hogging the hose, and threatening to wet anyone who came close to taking it from him...

Then a further 20mins letting them "help"me clean them...

Needless to say, it finally got done. But not before I sustained my first injury- a sore broken toe nail and sliced  toe from stubbing it on the corner of the window, probably while Noah was threatening to wet me with the hose. Now I'm hoping 'the boss' will buy me a pair of steel caps boots. Therefor, not only will I look the part, but they will hopefully allow me to keep all my toes during the months and months of  stressful, kids in the way, hazardous, and  messy renovations we have ahead of us.

Never again. Never. Ever.

Has it really been almost 7 years???

My phone is stuffed. But that's no surprise really. Every phone I've ever owned is doomed from the start.

Anyway, this whole evening while Joe was at the gym, I'd been trying so hard to telepathically send him this message... "get me a vanilla magnum, get me a vanilla magnum, get me a vanilla magnum..."get the drift?

So considering that we will be celebrating 7 years of marriage at the end of this week, I was very optimistic that he would hear my 'clear as day' telepathic message...WRONG.

He came home with no vanilla magnum. So disappointing.

 I told him about the telepathic message I'd been trying to send him all night. He asked me what it was, so I repeated it..."get me a vanilla magnum" to which he thought my whole idea of even trying to telepathically communicate with him was stupid and quote "you're a screw ball!"- what does that even mean anyway!?

Well, little does he know that I've been telepathically communicating with him our whole marriage and it has worked most of the time- how else would I have gotten that cute handbag earlier today!?.  It just failed to work tonight.

It really failed to work tonight, because he later walked in the room with two mandarines and handed them to me... "no thanks, babe..." I told him, " I don't want a mandarine." Joe looked at me puzzled, so I looked at him puzzled, to which he replied... "isn't that what you telepathically wanted me to get you all night?"

 Huh?

How the heck do you get two mandarines from "get me a vanilla magnum???" Oh, dear.

 So not only is our telepathic communication a little shaky at times after almost 7 years of marriage, but clearly our verbal communication isn't looking too promising either. Oh well babe, luckily we have eternity to get it right!