The Other Love of my Life

I can think of no other or better way to title this post, and I find a lot of "unembarrassedment" in knowing that neither my family nor my friends will read this post, as I'm still yet to tell ANYONE, including my sweet Timbo, about this blog.

When I talk about my sister Abigail Yates Ristine Smith, I usually call her "My Abby." I don't think I've ever called her this to her face. She's my best friend. I talk to her every single day, usually twice. She married her high school sweet heart and is Mama to Beau William, 3, and Leland Richard, 1.5. They're beautiful, wonderful, difficult tiny lovers. She's unflustered in the midst of hitting and age-appropriate nastiness. She tries so hard.

Over the years, she's had to try hard with me also. I was impossible, for a long time. She always loved me. She always answered the phone and she always told me the truth.

More and more days go by and we still don't have a baby, don't have a positive pregnancy test. I honestly believe I talk more to HER about how much I want to be a mom more than I talk to Tim. She gets it. She's really, really rooting/ routing (sp?) for me.

She's effortlessly beautiful and hopeful and truthful and kind. She's one of the very best parts of life.

Tim has nothing on her. My prayer is that I will be half the mom, someday, that she is every day.

She has taught me that the best things in my life don't belong to me, but instead belongs to God. My love for her belongs to God. I don't deserve her and she is nothing short of my biggest fan and, if I have pick someone for my whole life.... 29 years through and through, she's the love of it. She's taught me how to be kind and gentle and she's the kind of mom to my sweet, sweet nephews that I want so badly to be to Tiny Hixsons.

I love you Abby. I hope you see this someday.

Mr. Hixson

My family and some of my friends, if they see this, will most likely leave comments like "Barf" and "vomit" and "Get a room." That said, I will say what I want to say.

Our first year of marriage (a little more than a year now, actually) has been both incredibly easy and difficult.

We are not two peas in a pod. Personality wise, we have remarkably little in common. I'm extroverted to the 9 millionth degree. I don't even like to be by myself in our house for 6 hours, it makes me feel badly. Everyone close to me and most casual acquaintances know my business. I can't keep it inside, even though I know, in some situations, I should. I talk to my sister Abby and my mom every single day. I talk to my sister Emily and my Dad at least a couple times a week. My best friend Louise's life-partner Jon refers me me as her "lover" because we talk so much and so often.

Tim's different. His battery is recharged by being by himself, while mine is recharged from other people. (this is his analogy.) He's private, and I don't doubt that sometimes it's hard to be married to someone who tells EVERYBODY her personal business, which, most of the time, is Tim's personal business too. He's an incredibly private person. He's also incredibly kind, extraordinarily generous, and self-less in a way that brings new definition to the word.

I know it's corny and gag-alicious, but for me, it has to be said: I was drowning and he saved me. He made it apparent that my purpose on this earth as not for other people to measure their accomplishments against me: At least I'm more together than Jane, at least I'm not an emotional wreck like Jane. Tim makes in evident that God isn't done with me.

It's hard that we don't have baby, and that we might not for some time still. We don't know what's wrong, and our hope is that there's really nothing wrong, we just haven't gotten it right yet. We haven't gotten "lucky" yet. But I already have, I know. He snuggles me when I sob about TV shows. He loves my heart, no matter how much I wear it on my sleeve, and force him, through that, to wear his heart the same way. He's a blessing, he's a gentleman. He's an amazing husband and is going to be be an amazing father.

Barf. Vomit. Get a room. I love you.