IT’S BEEN EXACTLY ONE MONTH SINCE I’VE WORN THIS DRESS.

One whole, long, fast, crazy, blissful month.

It’s a month that I’ll never forget – with the good and the bad and the crazy all tangled together into an intricate web that wraps me up inside of it, a cocoon of our own sort.

This? This is home. Where the ruffled skirts and the boy boxers share space in the laundry bins and the bed covers are highly coveted property. Where we let down our guards and allow the other person in with the promise to love the other wholly, for exactly who they are. Where we share strengths and admit all weaknesses. Where we learn to argue, and budget, and have hard conversations. Where we fall in love with each other all over again.

Life is so crazy. At any given time there are a million things pulling at us, demanding either our presence or wallet or time, and a million other to-do’s or like-to’s or some-day’s floating around in our heads. This is the rhythm that we’ve made, the groove we’ve created to fit into. But the most important, the most primal part of the whole thing is the foundation it is built on.

Our marriage.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

I SPENT ALL NIGHT UPLOADING WEDDING PHOTOS and filling out thank you cards.

Which, by the way, do you have any idea how weird it is to write thank you cards?

I can never – for my life – decide what to write.

Thank you for the gift! sounds too trite.

Thanks for coming to our wedding! sounds too fake.

And then there’s the matter of how personal I should get with them. Do I stay all courteous and professional, or can I be like, “remember that one time that really embarrassing thing happened? Good times.”

I just can’t decide, people. So don’t be surprised if you get a thank you card that has a fart joke written on it in smudged handwriting. I am left-handed, after all (which makes me either 7-10% cooler than everyone else or 7-10% more impaired than the majority of the population).

(I didn’t make that stat up by the way. I GOOGLED IT.)

Anyway, I’m going to do to these wedding photos in stages because I simply can’t pack all that into one post. There are too many sweet, too many funny, too many nostalgic parts that would be skipped if we wedged it all together.

So, here is the cake.

The cake that I’M STILL PISSED ABOUT BECAUSE GUESS WHAT?

I didn’t get a piece.

I got a bite – but that was before I shoved the rest of my slice in/on/around Kevin’s face (yes, there’s photos).

And I got another slice after we’d taken photos. . .but then I got pulled away to shoot some parts for our wedding video, and then I was pulled over to talk to a bajillion wonderful people, and I didn’t even realize I hadn’t eaten until we were headed up to our hotel room in Salt Lake and my stomach was growling.

My cake was from Wedding Cakes by Dawna, who did a FANTASTIC job. I heard it was delicious! The top tier was carrot cake, the middle was chocolate and the bottom was vanilla.

SO YOU’LL PROBABLY THINK WE’RE WEIRD. And that’s fine, because honestly? I do too. C’mon. He sleep talks and I eat Kool Aid plain.

Yep.

I do. Don’t judge.

So since we’re weird, photos like this shouldn’t surprise you.

And they won’t, because we’re the bat killers that receive dead animals as presents and dare siblings to ask for fumunda cheese.

(Here is where I expound a little about the whole bat situation. A lot of you were concerned for the bat, and were sad to learn that we killed it. But cute, and fluffy, and bat-like as it was, we weren’t allowed to let it live. Grams, who is allergic to bats and was afraid it would come back and nest in her attic, sat up on the stairs and hollered for us until we showed her the proof that it was dead. And you don’t mess with Grams.)

(Dear bat, I am sorry. Also? Stay out of my house).

Anywho. Sleep talkers and Kool Aid eaters.

Also? Jumpers.









Well, he jumps. I just stand there looking all judgmental.

I’M NOT DEAD. WordPress is broken (anyone know how to fix the kitchen sink? I’m all ears), I hate my layout and I have over sixteen thousand images on my computer that I need to organize and move to an external hard drive because apparently sixteen thousand photos is too much for my computer to hold, which means that until that gets taken care of, I can’t upload the video and show you something hilarious that happened to me two weekends ago. But none of this is going to happen until I finish reading Mockingjay and maybe spend some time with the husband, because I don’t know, I married him? So he at least deserves a couple of minutes of my time as well as a warm dinner every now and then and a pat on the back for putting up with me.

I know. I frustrate me too.

I’m having a heated internal debate wherein the wanna-be literary genius and the photo-happy bride in my head duke it out over whether I should post pictures or words. Only, there is a problem with the pictures (see above) and my words are a jumbled mess of disjointed thoughts about life, love, and dirty dishes.

I’m working on it people. Have patience.

Here is your warning that the next few weeks will be sporadic posting about this that and the other. . .words, photos, wordless photos, and the like. Oh, and I’ll eventually get around to posting pictures of the honeymoon and maybe some day I’ll fill out that stack of thank you cards that glares at me from the kitchen counter.

For now here’s some pictures because I think my words are starting to not make sense.

(All photos credit to Nathaniel Ray Photography).