Our Love Story Pt. 1

A good love story is always a pleasure to read. It makes me feel like we (Robert and I) aren't the only ones who have found soul mates and are now living in such marital bliss. The world needs more Simace and Annark's (yes Anne, I went there, sorry. Not sorry). So, I'm linking up with Grace at Camp Patton to present to you...

Our Story: Part 1

The first time I laid eyes on him (Robert), I was too busy to appreciate his true beauty. Sure, the guy I saw standing before me was attractive but the hustle and bustle of lunch rush at Bread Co needed my attention far greater than the guy snagging my clip board without explanation of who he was and what he thought he was doing with said clip board. I hastily grabbed it from his one handed grip. Snakily asked what he thought he was doing, gave a very overly exaggerated and very obnoxious eye roll, furrowed my brows and promptly marched my little But mighty self down to the sandwich line. I remember looking back and feeling a bit of remorse. I was a tad rude and he did seem to know some of the crew I was working with. Plus he was handicapped. Well not in the way you are probably thinking, so allow me to clarify. His right hand was bandaged up real nice and tight. Hence, why I pulled that clipboard from a one handed grip. (The hand injury becomes an integral part of Our Story, so you'll have to keep reading to discover how). Anyway, Mr. Handsome and all his God-given cuteness, and fragrance of something from heaven was out the door and out of my life as soon as a took a second glance back. Oh, well. No loss to me I thought. You see, I was in the mist of this whole discovering who I was and therefore didn't want any man in my life at that particular time. So, playing nice with the opposite sex was not my strong suit. 

Sooner rather than later, in walked Mr. Handsome with his hand still bandaged. Instead of downing his jeans and black leather jacket as before, he was sporting a polo shirt and asking for my boss. Crap! Guess who worked at "my" Bread Co back in his teenage days and knew people? Guess who was working with me now. Nice Tasha. Real smooth. (Like butter)

Our work days didn't really over lap and he went to another location to help out so I didn't find myself thinking of him until mid December (2003). Somehow we ended up working a lot of the same shifts. He was playful and charming. Upbeat, fun, and a bit cocky obnoxious. I was warned by a female employee who had worked with him in his teenage years that he was indeed cocky, conceded and arrogant. I should stay away. This struck me odd. Why would she warn me. After all, I still didn't want to date anyone and I was positive I wasn't giving off the impression I did. It was true, his presence did make my work day go by faster but we had no real conversation going. I knew nothing of his life nor he knew nothing of mine. We made no attempts to connect in a manner that would make one believe we were interested in each other. Or so I thought. Looking back at his shenanigans; I can see how they may have been portrayed as flirtatious. To me though, they were annoying. Like, when he started pushing buttons on my register while I was taking a customers' order simultaneously calling me short. Or, holding things above my head and giving a sly smile that just beckoned my inner attitude to strike out. He was frustrating and annoying and little by little he began to break down a Huge wall. He was rarely serious. Always humorous. And plain good o' fun.
(A note from Robert per reading this. He assured me his one attempted at flirting was a failure and that was all he needed to know. No further pursuing was attempted). 

One day we found ourselves in a short conversations and the topic of his sisters' wedding came about; he mentioned he would be taking some time off, which prompted me to wonder out loud if he would be returning to work before the company Christmas Party? Or, if he was at least planning on attending? He said he would be back well before the company party (which was in the middle of January and still a good four weeks away). He promptly countered with the same question he just left unanswered. Was I planning on going to the company Christmas party? For awhile I tried to convince myself that I was just being polite by asking him if he was attending, even though I felt some conniving part of my psyche answer his question. 

"I don't think I'll be up for the Christmas Party. I'm not seeing anyone so I wouldn't have a date. Plus, I'm more the introverted type". 

That was pretty much the extent of the conversation. He didn't offer to take me nor did he encourage me to go. So, convinced I was that my polite conversation was just that. Polite conversation between two human beings. 

I don't believe we saw each other again until he returned to work; which was after the new year, yet prior to the company Christmas Party. I recall him entering the office I occupied during my shift to collect a paycheck and once again we engaged in polite conversation. I inquired about Christmas and his sisters' wedding. He must have felt more obliged to chat this time around because he squatted down and made himself quite comfortable in the tiny space. I remember looking into the depth of his brown eyes, not in a, "I'm falling for you kind of way", but more of a "WOW! He's passionate about his family" kind of way.  His eyes lit up as he spoke of his family/siblings in from out of town for Christmas and the wedding. He had such charisma while describing the little kids on Christmas and how much fun was had by all. It was then in that moment I saw him for the first time. I was able to appreciate his true beauty. I knew in that fleeting moment he was going to take me to the Christmas Party. And, he was going to think it was his idea! 

Don't get me wrong. I still had NO desire to date, but there was something about him that I wanted to discover. I figured the Christmas Party would be a perfect group setting as to not give him any ideas that I was interested in something more than getting to know one another. So, over the course of a few weeks, we managed to make a little more effort at the small talk. I danced around the Christmas Party topic with such fluidity that one would think me to be a World Renowned Ballerina. I kept asking about his stance on the subject; he would throw it back at me trying to get a read on whether or not he should bite the bullet and ask. Finally he suggested we ride together. Great. Then, not so great. "Our boss" decided she wanted to car pool with us. Awkward!? 

January 18, 2004. NOT OFFICIAL DATE to the company Christmas Party. 
The three of us corralled ourselves into his little red Honda Civic. Who do you think got thrown in the back...Hand Raised. Yup. "Our Boss" had known him since he was 16 and was so excited he came back to work for her. She had lots to catch up with him about. In efforts to not make me feel more of a three legged dog than what I was beginning to feel like; Robert tossed me his CD cases and suggested I pick something. I'm sorry, I just didn't know half of the bands in his Proud and Exstensive collection, but you know how did? Yup! You guessed it. *"Our Boss".*

As I sat in the back trying to hear the conversation about the bands over the loud music that "Our Boss" selected, I increasingly felt isolated and wondered why I put myself in this position. I was relieved when we arrived at our destination. I was looking forward to mingling with some people I knew, maybe having a drink and then getting myself out on the dance floor because this girls likes to dance! I figured Robert would wonder off and get chummy with old acquaintances, but he didn't. Instead, as we walked in, he was every bit the gentleman and focused his atrention onto me. I guess he was interested after all and my sulking self was yelling "get over it". Yes, I am quick to allow a hiccup in my plans to ruine a perfectly good time if I am not careful, but this time. This time was different. I wasn't going to scuffle my little self off and leave him in the dust. Nope. I was going to have a good time...with him. 

To be continued... 

Robert and me, Oct. 2004. How'd we get here?

Mystery Ingredient Monday #2

I'm feel'n SUPER FLY!! (said with all kinds of swank and swagger that I don't possess) that this little-O-blog has recieved some attention from some BIG-O-bloggers. I will attribute it to my much more suave SIL's whom are literature extraordinaires. Thank you for helping this random idea become successful.

Last week Jessica kicked off the Mystery Ingredient Monday (MIM) with her choice of Cherries.
This week is my choice, so at the end of this post you will find our new Mystery Ingredient (MI).

Cherries

I used these. Whole dried tart cherries

Robert has a keenness for cherries and since fresh ones aren't in season all year long, we buy the dried to get him through the other 9 months of the year. They are plump even though they're dried and have a sweetness to complement their tang. Usually we eat them out of the bag, by the handful like the primates we are... Yes, we have opposable thumbs.

I thought I would spice things up a bit. I have an Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies recipe that calls for coffee and pretzels, I figured adding cherries would bring a whole new level of YUM. So, I went with it. Robert did all my prep while I nursed the huge babe I birthed so he would be content while I played baker with the girls. 

Look how all the ingredients are showcased so beautifully. 

Boy oh boy does this photo come back to bite me in the-you-know-what!

My intent was to show the importance of prepping your ingredients, especially if you have children who want to help. Doesn't it look like I know what I'm doing? HA! Just wait...

Here's our end result. 

Good news. They taste great. 

Bad news.

1. They are a bit rubbery chewier than I like.

2. They aren't as fluffy as they should be.

3. You see the 2 WHOLE sticks of butter in the previous picture...

Yea. That didn't get prepped.

Soooo, the recipe calls for 14 Tablespoons of butter not 16 and well, since I thought all the ingredients were prepped, I didn't bother to double check the ingredient list. Also, I pulled the butter out and placed it on the counter so Robert thought I was going to prep it. Nope, sure didn't. I just started following the directions. Yup, I added all 16 Tablespoons of butter. Whoops! This is why I don't usually bake or cook. But hey, I thought I would be genuine and share my mistake, because well, you live and you learn. And humility helps us grow in virtue. Am I Right. Plus it does showcase the importance of prepping. 

SURPRISE!!

Added bonus to this post curtsey of my husband and his mother, who both, decided to play along. A family that bakes together... Shares a lot of L O V E. Love. 

My Mother-In-Laws' entry

Jessica submitted this fun Cherry Clafoutis recipe last Monday when she announced Cherries as her MI. My Mother-In-Law equipped with her savvy William Sanoma Cherry Pitter  and some family friends gathered around and went to work on this fabulous dessert! I promise you. It was divine! 

My Husbands' entry

Because all the O'Brien's have a healthy sense of competitions. Robert had to throw down too. Well in reality he was baking it for the Catholicism DVD series we take part of once a month; it just happened to fall on this Sunday and he just happened to uses Cherries. Okay, okay, okay... He made other things for it too. But still. 

His recipe is from the April/May 2010 Cooks Country magazine.

 Titled: Cherry-Almond Coffee Cake.

I know, it even looks prettier than mine. Whatever.

Oh.My.Goodness! I could eat this everyday for the rest of my life but that sure won't help me shed the extra baby weight I'm still lugging. The great and all powerful, almighty, Culinary-Extraodinair, himself had a bit of difficulty with this recipe. This MIM has caused him to seek new heights. He has never worked with almond paste before, so that proved to be a challenge causing him to remake the cake.

He also warned that the recipe is written convoluted. The streusel and cake ingredients are combined in the list of ingredients; it's not until you read the directions you are instructed to separate certain ingredients. It was a lot of work, tasted awesome, but ultimately, a lot of work. 

If you would like me to post the cookie or coffe cake recipe, comment below or send me an email. I'll be happy to hook you up! Hope your endeavor was as eventful. Go link up with Jessica so we can see what you came up with. 

Now, I'm off to see what Jessica and Anne whipped up with Cherries. 

Stay tuned for next weeks post on what we did with... MINT! Yes, MINT. That is my MI choice this week. Feel free to play along. I'll host the link up next week, so see you back here on Monday. Go fourth and be inspired!

Theme Thursday: Girls-Roll'n in the deep (thoughts)

Linking up with Cari at Clan Donaldson for this weeks Theme Thursday:
Girls! I.Love.My.Girls!

They are high octane from the moment their beautiful eyes open in the morning until they close for the night. They love passionately and do their best to test their boundaries. They play tea party while slaying the bad guys with their bow and arrows. They talk incessantly, screech the loudest, and want more than anything to grow up to be my mini-me's.    

Here's a true story for ya:

Tuesday I had one of those self depricating afternoons were I felt like a failure of a mother and disciplinarian. After the second time Marie stormed into my bedroom while nursing the babe (who was up every 15 min the night before and had not napped yet, due to equal parts Wicked-Loud sisters and teething) I almost lost it. 

Marie's first gust of wind into my Oasis was to inform me she placed her arrow on Elise's head, on purpose. (Bow and arrows, confiscated)
Her second gust tore through my door with such violence I thought the whole frame was going to unhinge from the walls. What was that urgent? She proceeded to tell me how she poked Elise in the forehead with the tip of a colored pencil. 

Really? REALLY?
"Go to your room" I boomed! 

As I slowly gave up on the fact the babe was not going to drift off to Never Land, I pondered what could be going on with her. Why was she suddenly a glutton for punishment? Why is she being so mean to her sister, teasing her and blatantly disobeying; then telling me her offense. Does she want to be punished? Does she need more attention? Am I being rude and snide to her? All these thoughts and more raced through my head. There has to be a root cause. I know she's only 4 1/2 but she is so much more mature than that. It's hard to think she doesn't really have a grasp of her actions.
Where am I failing her. She doesn't have too many outside influences (and those she does have are amazing) so, this has to be here, in the home.
The train of thought began to unfold to something bigger. WE, as women (generalizing) can be so nurturing and loving but have so much snark and attitude! It's like an innate ability. Born with it. Done. Learn to live with it. Or, overcome it.
While I wondered in great anger what to say that would help her realize her ruthlessness and flippant attitude was not acceptable, I became aware of the security she felt to be able to confide in me even though she knew she did something wrong. This trust I knew needed to be fostered; my over-reaction could weaken that bond of trust I worked from birth to form with her. I want to keep it intact for when she ventures out into the world beyond our front door. Mentally: "What do I say? Keep it simple and state the truth."
I calmly went to her room where she sat on her bed playing. I sat down next to her and with all the love and conviction I could manage in my voice, I tried my best to convey how proud I was she came to me when she did something wrong but her behavior was unacceptable. I expressed, as I always have, SHE is NOT bad, her actions and decisions are bad.

Later that evening, Robert and I had a chance to discuss the overly dramatic text he received that read a little something like "I wouldn't come home if I were you", sent during that time of chaos (the crying babe and screaming toddlers and sleep deprived wife). He reminded me that our girls aspire to be like me; Marie always says how she wants to grow up, go to school, get married, and become a mom.
Still feeling like a failure, I asked Robert if I am someone to be proud of? Am I selling my self short because I don't have a ton of accomplishments on my resume? Am I serving others in my vocation as I have been called to? I know it sounds self indulgent but when you are entrusted to raise the children The Lord has blessed you with to be His loving handmaidens; you wonder at times if you're good enough. 

His response was money baby! They are words he has spoken in the past, but like a good homily, you thirst to be reminded.

Summary:
"You will be remembered in 100 years. Not because you have a list of self-fulfilling accomplishments that are probably just a disguise for a lack of purpose and happiness in your life but because there is NOTHING more difficult, more rewarding, and more accomplishing than raising our children. It will be YOU our great-grandchildren will talk about while making Margaret's Rolls.
You have goals; To get to heaven. Help those around you get to heaven. Raise our children to be the next generation of loving, inspirational, hard working, self confident, God loving adults. You're doing a great job. Every time they show compassion, every time they genuflect, every time they make the sign of the cross, they pray, they sing and dance with joy, they learn something new...All those times are because of you. They want to be a mom because of your example"!

He's right. Mothers' (generalizing again) give selflessly to their family. And it is so important to impress upon our younglings the joys and humility that comes with our vocation. Our every action and word is hung out there in all its vulnerability and glory for them to see. The good examples we set for them will nurture their growth into confident women, ones we will be proud of. So, I will continue to torment myself with their every action and pray I do the right thing. I'll read books to help me navigate these unchartered territories, I'll listen intently to others experiences and advice. I'll rely heavily on God's graces to help me form His children into exemplary women who will know their roles and vocation  will be every bit as rewarding, satisfying, and glorious as mine.
I am enough! You are enough! And.They.Are.So.Worth.It!

I keep thinking of the lyrics to John Mayers' Daughters:
"...Girls become lovers, who turn into Mothers, so Mothers be good to your daughters too"

Mother's in the making

Marie holding Robert IV

Elise holding Robert IV

There is nothing like witnessing your daughters love! 

Theme Thursday: Bodies

Joining the gracious host Cari, again for this weeks Theme Thursday: BODIES!
(On a side note, thank you kind readers for last weeks boost in confidence.)

There are so many bodies to choose from and I know that sounds creepy, but It's true. In lieu of the theme as bodies, plural, and not body, singular, I choose the cohesiveness of this trio.

The Trio

Baptism of The Fourth

My Father-in-law (Jr.), My husband (The Third) and My son (The fourth, or as my FIL likes to call him, Quattro).  I tried to convince them it should be A Ceathair (ah cah-hir) which is Irish for the number four, but was shut down. Probably for the reason you already thought...What's that word and what does it mean? 

My FIL

FIL with The Fourth

One of the most generous and honorable men I know. 

We look to him as the patriarch of the family, though he would humbly claim it is his father-in-law 

Moving on to The Third 

The Fourths Birth: Robert III, holding, Marie. Elise. and Robert IV

The leading man in my life who shares All the adventures with me. My Prince Charming/Court Jester. Without him I would always be Chicken Little yelling "the sky is falling the sky is falling!" Instead, it's just half the week. It also happens to be his birthday today. Happy Birthday Robert The Third!

 And then there's this guy, Robert The Fourth 

Apple of my eye, makes me smile when I don't want to, and melts my heart because he already pulls out ALL the stops... Like father, like son!  

Do you all remember the popular County Music song by Travis Trait (90's) 

T-R-O-U-B-L-E

It went a little something like this:

"...hey good L-double O-K-I-N-G...

Yeah I smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E...!"

 No, you don't? Need a newer reference? 

Okay How about Taylor Swift's

Trouble

I like these lines:

"I knew you were trouble when you walked in"

"Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble"

Yea, Pretty much sums him up. SO. MUCH. T-R-O-U-B-L-E!

Here's what I mean.

Revving up

Ready

Set

Go

And he's off to the races...He's just not old enough to bet and I'm not ye gamblin' kind! 

At eight months old, I repeat at eight months old, my little lad WAS crawling. I say "WAS" because now he is nine months old and thinks he can walk and climb stairs. WHO the heck is coming over to my house and teaching the one child I most certainly DID NOT want moving around yet to do such milestones!?!?! I thank you, NOT!

         Robert The Fourth; you think you are all kinds of CUTENESS; and well in all honesty. YOU ARE. BUT, now you can follow me around and squawk your unwavering affections (i.e. I Love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Translation- NURSE ME WOMAN!) instead of doing so from the confines of the living room floor where it's safe. And and not as loud. 

Seriously, I love you, Nurse me!

You have taken to pulling yourself up to a standing position only to try to walk...and fall...(And, let's play the broken record technique on that one) so far on your behind, but I know the face plant into something horrible with a trip to the ER is coming. 

T-R-O-U-B-L-E!!!

Oh,Trouble, Trouble, Trouble

             Oh, yes. the shenanigans are never far, you mosey on up the stairs, every chance you get. The obstacle course of chairs slows you; but you are your fathers' son AND your fathers', fathers' grandson...persistent. A good trait to have on your side later in life, but right now, it finds you frustrated.

T-R-O-U-B-L-E

I pulled him to safety and his thoughts on that were...

"How dare you ruin my life and eat all my steak". To that, my reply "I'm your mom it's my job to ruin your life (protect you) and you won't even eat the steak. 

Seriously, The Trio is too cute. I HEART them!

A note to The Fourth,
On this day of celebration and honoring of your father. Those roman numerals behind your name are placed with integrity and honor. A legacy is unfolding, the stairway to heaven have already been built and sainthood is achievable, just follow in the foot steps of your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather and you'll be one fine man and wealthy beyond your dreams!