tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62914466439431862932024-02-18T21:43:09.488-08:00Happily Ever After: A Soulmate CelebrationA Newlywed Couples’ Journal of Gratitude and Appreciation
AKA Lessons From the Love Life of a Love CoachDr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-74361212149751542182010-03-12T12:05:00.001-08:002010-03-12T12:24:21.073-08:00Why Greg is the Best Horse Husband Ever!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvU8Q8h0vd_3ELNbz-231UETizHQHPUkBMvbId58AIOnEduVAL_418_PdGchZWXS_yJeg9s15IBntvUsmwBpse7yZ0PKfkyRik1zmdxUse4XOims0BhJpHu4pamFFQWuzK7KAh8df7EQI/s1600-h/Jaren+and+Greg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvU8Q8h0vd_3ELNbz-231UETizHQHPUkBMvbId58AIOnEduVAL_418_PdGchZWXS_yJeg9s15IBntvUsmwBpse7yZ0PKfkyRik1zmdxUse4XOims0BhJpHu4pamFFQWuzK7KAh8df7EQI/s200/Jaren+and+Greg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447842883789154706" border="0" /></a><br />I have to hand it to Greg. He never complains.<br /><br />He's solid like a rock when you need him.<br /><br />The kind of man you can count on- who doesn't wussy out, even when:<br /><br />- it's midnight<br />- he's just about asleep on the couch<br />- and you need him to go medicate and bandage a fussy yearling<br />- in the windy, cold, winter night.<br /><br />What more can you ask of a guy!?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_PZTS3N_V1SqHz-4CBJ1AMqJCOG553uOg7vj064r_3r9zgqt9gsg7ABFTv_MPoSJSMOhJBuHnA1cDahzZu6Q_VjSBcSMoKLSnLvI19g8L05RgXBQNz-iIHJY-1d7xRGBoSCsfc-pocz4/s1600-h/Kissing+Jaren.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_PZTS3N_V1SqHz-4CBJ1AMqJCOG553uOg7vj064r_3r9zgqt9gsg7ABFTv_MPoSJSMOhJBuHnA1cDahzZu6Q_VjSBcSMoKLSnLvI19g8L05RgXBQNz-iIHJY-1d7xRGBoSCsfc-pocz4/s200/Kissing+Jaren.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447842894444580642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Especially when it was my prior silly decision that lead us to be doing this onerous chore so late in the freezing dark.<br /><br />Damn he even kisses horses!<br /><br />He deserves a reward, don't you think? What shall it be.... any ideas?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">True Love:</span> Being willing to help each other out, even after dumb decisions, never once muttering, "I told you so!"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers: How does your partner help you out without complaint? Please share!</span><br /><br />BTW- This is #761 Reason Why You Should Marry a Horse Lover!!! <span style="font-weight: bold;">Listen In</span> to my cheerful debate on Stable Scoop radio about why you <span style="font-style: italic;">definitely</span> should marry a horse-lover!: <a href="http://happilyeverafterranch.blogspot.com/2010/02/stable-scoop-radio-should-you-marry.html">Valentine's Day Episode</a>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-34860531167346448542009-12-23T12:00:00.000-08:002009-12-23T11:47:17.714-08:00Surprise: Steaming HomeMade! Hot Chocolate<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KSIZv9JdxApGWUoe8FoeZsSP3KQBi1kvK1r5r9CZ50Q-JdWXAl7tt1d_R_40mkRY-z6tT8LfYikekEBCyk8TWpfSXWh1uBwLYOtlgx8P8pSwqRxvnd_m9kir8zWNJ-7bI8vtqvMvGxA/s1600-h/cocoa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KSIZv9JdxApGWUoe8FoeZsSP3KQBi1kvK1r5r9CZ50Q-JdWXAl7tt1d_R_40mkRY-z6tT8LfYikekEBCyk8TWpfSXWh1uBwLYOtlgx8P8pSwqRxvnd_m9kir8zWNJ-7bI8vtqvMvGxA/s200/cocoa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412340502362332850" border="0" /></a><br />The other night, I disappeared out of the house for WAY longer than I expected. The horses decided it was time for a spontaneous healing session.<br /><br />But it was dusk, snow was on the ground, and it was freezing!!!<br /><br />Let me tell you though, it was one heck of a healing session- I cried my eyes out and let go of a lot of junk I didn't know I was carrying!<br /><br />When I got inside, I was absolutely frozen, head to toe. "Darn, I'm COLD!," I cried out when I came in the door.<br /><br />But instead of being frustrated that I had been nowhere to be found for so long, Greg had a surprise ready for me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">"Good thing I have something for you then!</span>," he smiled, as he handed me a fresh cup of hot chocolate that he made from SCRATCH!.<br /><br />Wow- how lucky am I??? Just when I'm cold and exhausted from doing a heap of emotional work, there is Greg, my angel, standing ready with the perfect treat.<br /><br />Thank you Greg for your thoughtfulness!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers</span>: How does your partner surprise you with just what you need? Please share!Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-5455702750116814112009-12-06T10:00:00.000-08:002009-12-07T09:24:11.361-08:00Surgical Sweetness: Overcoming Fear with Love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmjmpV6I6H2kCuqLpqcc_6tOl_HesErv6GHJ-7WBHEe_X4-Zdw2z7A64yjo1WiAzrFcR48EP5LHT7fr3LAA_nJtKUXBrPTBuXYCR5WWcALK9q9SteyoLKbcakRRSo0jXBD5MdhraIPdA/s1600-h/IMG_4130.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmjmpV6I6H2kCuqLpqcc_6tOl_HesErv6GHJ-7WBHEe_X4-Zdw2z7A64yjo1WiAzrFcR48EP5LHT7fr3LAA_nJtKUXBrPTBuXYCR5WWcALK9q9SteyoLKbcakRRSo0jXBD5MdhraIPdA/s200/IMG_4130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412545320844381234" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Recently I had to go in for a minor surgery. </div><br /><div> </div>But as the nurse remarked, "If it's you or your loved one, there is no such thing as minor!"<br /><div> </div><br /><div>And darn, my racing heartbeat agreed with that.</div><br /><div> </div>Greg re-arranged his Dallas work schedule so he could go with me. But I was scared. Mostly when it came time to put the IV in my arm.<br /><div> </div><br /><div>What can I say, I AM a pain weenie.</div><br /><div> </div>And for some reason, having a silly IV put in was bringing me to panic-y tears.<br /><div> </div><br /><div>Maybe the darn hospital gown and silly grippy socks had something to do with it. You feel so, naked, vulnerable. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Like all is NOT right in the world if you have to be wearing one of those.</span></div><br /><div> </div>But there was Greg, standing beside me, holding my hand, and staring straight into my scared-y cat eyes.<br /><div> </div><br /><div style="font-weight: bold;">Showering me with love and empathy.</div><br /><div> </div>I could see it in his eyes- the way he looked at me- that there was nothing he wouldn't do to help me.<br /><div> </div><br /><div>That's all I needed. </div><br /><div>That's all I'll ever need. </div><br /><div>What more is there than that? </div><br /><div> </div>Knowing that the depth of your sweetie's love would travel through all of space and time to be by your side, so you won't have to be alone when you are scared.<br /><div> </div><br /><div style="font-weight: bold;">Knowing that together you can face anything and make it through.</div><br /><div> </div>It's that kind of love that can heal all wounds- surgical and otherwise!<br /><div> </div><br /><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers: </span><strong style="font-weight: bold;"></strong>How does your loved one stand by you when you are scared? Please share!</div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-9524774621509258542009-12-03T16:05:00.000-08:002009-12-03T16:45:37.310-08:00Thanksgiving: Feeling like the Luckiest Girl Alive<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpFwcz1gYGQTtA1oV0zNvEiCXD3wZBnms9zWu-IKcLeMJedZlZilK7pr7O4K2mw50E_GcP0YRDuWAuE9SOJjfbkluADQ8fsHqb8JllqHxuoZaYgRzvFu5Ho2XO0GHwA6pgq-ht8U9Si4/s1600-h/greg+and+jenn+thanks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpFwcz1gYGQTtA1oV0zNvEiCXD3wZBnms9zWu-IKcLeMJedZlZilK7pr7O4K2mw50E_GcP0YRDuWAuE9SOJjfbkluADQ8fsHqb8JllqHxuoZaYgRzvFu5Ho2XO0GHwA6pgq-ht8U9Si4/s200/greg+and+jenn+thanks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411173262324964402" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I am the luckiest girl ever!<br /><br />I like to wake up and remind myself of that every morning as I walk outside to feed the ponies, not just because of this beautiful ranch and the chance to live with my amazing herd, but to be <strong>given the unconditional love of a husband who has such a pure heart</strong>.<br /><br />Greg’s been working in Dallas for over 3 months now- home on most weekends. Over Thanksgiving he was home for a week!<br /><br />It would be understandable if he wanted a break during that time. I mean, heck, I’d be tired from all that stressful travel and just want to kick back and relax- you know, have a good woman take care of him for once!<br /><br />But that’s just not in his nature.<br /><br />Nope, he feels bad that I’ve had to take care of the ranch and all the animals all by myself all this time.<br /><br /><strong>So he’s going to make it up to me.</strong><br /><br />Instead of sleeping in, he gets up and gives me a reprieve from feeding the horses in the morning. He even measures out all their bothersome supplements. He makes me breakfast. He does laundry. He feeds the dogs. He takes care of the dishes. He takes me out for dinner.<br /><br />Then, he paints the porch we’ve been putting off all Fall. And when I want a day off from painting, he says with no frustration at all: Go ahead, you deserve it.<br /><br /><strong>And I don’t have to ask for a thing- he just does all of that because we are a team.</strong> </div><br /><div> </div>I don’t even need him to do all of that- I understand he has to be away- I don’t expect him to make anything up.<br /><div><br />All he asks for in return? Back rubs- and lots of them.<br /><br />As I said, I’m one lucky girl- and I’m sending out a huge thank you to Greg for all of the hard work and accommodations he’s had to make to help bring my dream of this ranch into reality.<br /></div><br /><div>You’re my angel. Happy Thanksgiving.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers: </span>What does your partner do that makes you feel like the luckiest person alive? Please share!<br /></div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-29229000683110409772009-10-05T17:25:00.000-07:002009-10-05T17:39:45.899-07:00What's Your Love Fortune?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghoQw_zTLz3QoCE1jgQ6BQgd09kK7o31PgDrUzjyJB5cIBTq4zC9lXFOkPU31kN9uI-5vWDYrNraDEVkcXa3JlJeEWSp1ZSiJSv2LhGJDnKIY8-KhpGATBWOF-XxnpLTHSUSr_2OObt0I/s1600-h/fortune+cookie.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 155px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghoQw_zTLz3QoCE1jgQ6BQgd09kK7o31PgDrUzjyJB5cIBTq4zC9lXFOkPU31kN9uI-5vWDYrNraDEVkcXa3JlJeEWSp1ZSiJSv2LhGJDnKIY8-KhpGATBWOF-XxnpLTHSUSr_2OObt0I/s200/fortune+cookie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389279290153613506" border="0" /></a><br />Greg has been stuck traveling to Dallas every week now for more than a month.<br /><br />Serious. Bummer.<br /><br />We love being together and a good snuggle on the couch can erase a whole day of stressful experiences.<br /><br />But so can sweet emails like this one I got from him today:<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Good Afternoon Sweet Pea -<br /><br />I just thought I'd share a couple of fortunes I got from Pei Wei this afternoon:<br /><br />1. Your love of life can carry you through any circumstance.<br />2. Love is a present that can be given every single day you live.<br /><br />I'm giving you my love as a present today and every day.<br /><br />I love you!<br /><br />Greg</span><br /><br />You know what I love most about this email?<br /><br />It's clear that whatever is happening to him all the way over in Dallas, I'm still right there next to him in his head.<br /><br />Otherwise, he wouldn't immediately think to translate his fortunes into what it reminds him about our love.<br /><br />It's like he leaned over the table, read them to me, and told me how much he loves me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I feel like I'm right there with him, sipping too-sweet Chinese tea. It's so comforting to know he's keeping me close. </span><br /><br />It's little things like that, that keep you connected, no matter the distance.<br /><br />When you really love someone, it comes naturally to keep them close to your heart and mind, whether you are in the same town, or a different country.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers:</span> How does your sweetie keep you close even when you are far away? Please share!Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-12043410248231036082009-08-08T11:11:00.001-07:002009-08-10T15:28:20.919-07:00I'm Married to Jenn: The Creepy Cat LadyWell, it's finally happened. And to be honest, I always knew it would happen. I just figured it would take a lot longer. <span style="font-weight: bold;">And quite frankly, I figured it would happen after I was long in my grave.</span><br /><div><br />Jenn has become a <strong>Creepy Cat Woman</strong>.</div><br />That's right. The Happily Ever After Horse Ranch is now the home to not one, not two, not even three, but <strong>FOUR kitties</strong>.<br /><br />So now, if you've spent any time on this blog, you're asking yourself: <span style="font-weight: bold;">"Self, how could Greg have let this happen. He's not a cat person and he certainly isn't creepy. Why in the world does he have four cats?" </span><br /><br />To which I have to say, I really don't know.<br /><br />I grew up in a house in the country. We had a bunch of animals, including dogs, horses, a sheep, chickens, geese, ducks, and yes, even cats. But our cats were <span style="font-weight: bold;">barn cats</span>. <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">They served a purpose. </span>They kept the barn and garage mice-free environments. They didn't live inside the house. We rarely saw them and never thought of them as pets.<br /><br />Jenn on the other hand grew up with only cats. They were indoor-outdoor cats and were a source of and outlet for love and caring. <span style="font-weight: bold;">They had names like "Fluffy" and were dr</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">essed in doll clothes and taken around in strollers.</span> They were a part of the family and a big piece of Jenn's life.<br /><br />When Jenn first moved in with me, I had <span style="font-weight: bold;">two rules:</span><br /><br />- Love me, love my dogs.<br />- No CATS!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZi3VG_iLOx09PN6Xc1krk-4Q8sjFCMZg3yV85KA_V88XN_-ny2hdCGDlVkgoo1_UAFemoLjCD4eQQiV5oqPGuW9Y5LowtFWOeF7N9G1f9fylr2GAJBFle8MTHMFR8y1fp0D19QWiyRs/s1600-h/IMG_3704.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZi3VG_iLOx09PN6Xc1krk-4Q8sjFCMZg3yV85KA_V88XN_-ny2hdCGDlVkgoo1_UAFemoLjCD4eQQiV5oqPGuW9Y5LowtFWOeF7N9G1f9fylr2GAJBFle8MTHMFR8y1fp0D19QWiyRs/s200/IMG_3704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368463206971851794" border="0" /></a><br />I didn't want them stinking up the house and ruining stuff. And for three years I stuck to my guns, buying Jenn cat calendars and books rather then the real thing. But finally, after constant trips to the Pets Mart cat cage and a tearful discussion in the truck, I finally acquiesced and let Jenn get a cat we named Squeeks.<br /><br />Now Squeeks is a great cat. He's black and white. Lean and athletic. Friendly and self assured. There's just one problem: <span style="font-weight: bold;">He loves me but hates Jenn.</span><br /><br />This quandry led us to our second cat - J'oui.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7quCpAhpjfnCY_WzZsH6TKs7T0itoAfbx1uJaxAF_mHltPP0MJVP2jef6BdQm4ucHkk8RFeKAQcWi60HABccqEOX_xYGNAXiSGTq-LZTLUHRzTOEnTx79YONZpX_Jp4R2N4pq3uInqO8/s1600-h/IMG_1872.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7quCpAhpjfnCY_WzZsH6TKs7T0itoAfbx1uJaxAF_mHltPP0MJVP2jef6BdQm4ucHkk8RFeKAQcWi60HABccqEOX_xYGNAXiSGTq-LZTLUHRzTOEnTx79YONZpX_Jp4R2N4pq3uInqO8/s200/IMG_1872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368463897919865986" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Now J'oui is a lot of things Squeeks isn't. First and foremost, he LOVES Jenn. He's got a purr that's two sizes too big and he's just clumsy enough to be adorable. And he's got giant blue eyes. In other words, a purrfect '10' in Jenn's world.<br /><br />So at that point, I figure we're all set. Jenn finally has a cat that loves her and I've got a cat that loves me.<br />They get along great and keep each other entertained when we're not around.<br /><br />Done and done.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-xFq6kg8S_GhGnD5y0HWoMQS71R-G4pY7ighK2qs0loLiK55gg538y1YotUliAxESKcPfEt2Zx0Tl9YUQuu6xpyTUJMYa6oFwXsPXp6uqANJAza83EgJ97hbr-suq0asEmjJiTJc6Ac/s1600-h/Noel+Perching+Under+Stormy+Skies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-xFq6kg8S_GhGnD5y0HWoMQS71R-G4pY7ighK2qs0loLiK55gg538y1YotUliAxESKcPfEt2Zx0Tl9YUQuu6xpyTUJMYa6oFwXsPXp6uqANJAza83EgJ97hbr-suq0asEmjJiTJc6Ac/s200/Noel+Perching+Under+Stormy+Skies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368462059000530578" border="0" /></a><br />But then, on the first really cold day we had last winter Jenn says, "I think I hear a cat outside."<br /><br />Sure enough, Jenn steps onto the porch, yells, "Here kitty, kitty!" and as if on cue, an emaciated, shivering cat comes out from under the porch and starts rubbing on Jenn's legs. Cat number three - Big Kitty-Kitty arrives (not the most original of names, I know).<br /><br />So now we're certainly set for cats. <span style="font-weight: bold;">In fact, now the cats out number the people and dogs and are tied with the horses in number.</span><br /><br />Big Kitty-Kitty recovers nicely from her apparent long-term homeless problem and settles right in, loving both of us and the dogs. There's just one problem: Her inability to get along with the other cats. But that's okay. She stays in one part of the house while Squeeks and J'oui have the rest of the house.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">So what's the last thing we need? </span><br /><br />Something we need as much as another horse or a hole in the head?<br />That's right.<br />Another cat.<br />But does that stop Jenn from looking?<br />Not really.<br />Does it stop Jenn from falling in love with a tiny black kitty?<br />No.<br />And does it stop us from bringing home said tiny black kitty?<br />Nope, again.<br /><br />You see, I now see how much pure love and joy those kitties bring to Jenn. She absolutely adores them. She takes countless pictures of them, calls and emails me with updates on them, and takes great pleasure in having them around.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Who am I to deny her these simple pleasures?</span><br /><br />Having cats in the house makes Jenn a happier person. Her days get broken up by cats playing at her feet or striking adorable poses in the sun. She finds great joy in snuggling with the cats and sharing her love with them.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yZL87Xr6E91CE5aFGF97jiTvEjBpj-ZVwp1aSIqYenvs_iHNObKzCGGqhqfU2T89o0x8p6swHPsLjM4U4yteY1YY5WrgHgjOsX55gJjHx3jL1nRWzhTBM3ga9WFWgIRYid9lbL8zhV8/s1600-h/IMG_4055.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yZL87Xr6E91CE5aFGF97jiTvEjBpj-ZVwp1aSIqYenvs_iHNObKzCGGqhqfU2T89o0x8p6swHPsLjM4U4yteY1YY5WrgHgjOsX55gJjHx3jL1nRWzhTBM3ga9WFWgIRYid9lbL8zhV8/s200/IMG_4055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368464341351295762" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div>So, to answer the question above, I have four cats, not because Jenn is indeed a <strong>Creepy Cat Lady</strong> (although she does show some tendencies towards becoming one) but because it's a small way I can make her happier and feel more loved.<br /><br /><div></div>But I swear, four is where I draw the line!<br /><br />Welcome to the family Little P!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers:</span> Where have you given in your normal "rules" so that your partner could have more joy! Please share!Greghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10244987307814974536noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-40964301707650276752009-08-06T16:52:00.001-07:002009-08-10T18:22:39.160-07:00Love as Sweet as a Big, Fat Summer Blueberry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCoVJXzJTR9CMYks7OQbAFzoJxyg8UuvKllSi-ur44XfUFfESdgA9OZ1ADJeUiqzeYHnsx-oK5-N74tiahcfTl3AQbyciHwe8Uul_RbukfU-vjrLv1aDLVedbph4sPucEM4Z3byqT4oM/s1600-h/blueberries.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 138px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCoVJXzJTR9CMYks7OQbAFzoJxyg8UuvKllSi-ur44XfUFfESdgA9OZ1ADJeUiqzeYHnsx-oK5-N74tiahcfTl3AQbyciHwe8Uul_RbukfU-vjrLv1aDLVedbph4sPucEM4Z3byqT4oM/s200/blueberries.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367003157021311922" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCOMPAQ%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PersonName"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m spooning big, fat blueberries into my mouth when Greg asks, “How are your blueberries?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Thinking that’s a slightly odd question, I reply, “Good, thanks.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">“I’m glad you like them. I gave you all the biggest blueberries because I know how much you hate those tiny, sour ones!,” Greg says, looking at me with his own spoon filled with smaller, tarter berries.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">My heart totally melts.</p><p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"> “You did that just for me?!,” I say with a big smile, as I feel my love for him grow 3 sizes bigger in my heart. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Why, yes, I can’t have you sitting there with that puckered up face that makes wrinkles in the back of your head!,” Greg laughs. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Indeed, it’s true. I HATE sour berries. Sour anything really. And that <span style="font-weight: bold;">Bitter Berry Face</span> definitely doesn't make me look any prettier.
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">But seriously, what kind of man takes the time to lovingly select only berries that will make his partner happy!?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">How thoughtful, sweet, and amazingly loving is that?!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">My god, I am so lucky to have a man who loves me <span style="font-style: italic;">that </span>much.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">His simple act touches me way deep down in my soul.
<br /></p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">I continue to learn that true love is expressed in the little things we <st1:personname st="on">conscious</st1:personname>ly choose to do for each other simply because we know it will make our partner’s day a little brighter, their dinner a little sweeter. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And I settle into the knowing that Greg has been given to me as a gift- to teach me exactly what unconditional love looks like, day in and day out.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">To prove that I am learning, I save the biggest, fattest blueberry for last, reaching over to pop it into his mouth. We both savor the sweetness of our love, in action. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers:</span> What tiny, thoughtful act has touched your relationship lately- making your bond immeasurably sweeter? Please share. </p> Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-22319579617924481262009-07-14T14:18:00.000-07:002009-07-14T15:03:40.214-07:00My Shamelessly Promoting Angel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipc_8h7PzUeqcHJZA_jNzfhbsIFEyDovyR6Xx1yq0xOyZ3ApFipYHsBrFNjkSEjlkIcaPSSNjJFgaZiExjQ9NcFPF03se8zkQjJ6mHLdnOvX7kE0l1qKgILvGy4sfS02YvgMMUQZ__2Ks/s1600-h/angel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipc_8h7PzUeqcHJZA_jNzfhbsIFEyDovyR6Xx1yq0xOyZ3ApFipYHsBrFNjkSEjlkIcaPSSNjJFgaZiExjQ9NcFPF03se8zkQjJ6mHLdnOvX7kE0l1qKgILvGy4sfS02YvgMMUQZ__2Ks/s200/angel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358429771762759090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">“Angels are the keepers of magic and dreams.”</span><br /><br />Sometimes the difference between sinking and swimming is someone else’s ardent belief in you. It’s like they are holding the space for magic to happen in your life, they are keeping the vision of the dream alive for you while you’ve been off, taking a nap perhaps!<br /><br />I realized the other day that Greg is just that type of Angel for me- holding the vision, sparking the magic. Not only does he do that for me personally- but he’s my biggest fan and he’s always raving about me to other people- propelling the vision forward!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">He’s sort of unassuming, but he’s not shy when it comes to me- he’s my Shameless Promoter.</span><br /><br />If he overhears someone talking about something I can help with, he tells them all about me. Hardly a week goes by when he doesn’t come home and tell me that he’s told Sally, Chris, or Harry about what I could do for them.<br /><br />He does this with absolutely no prodding from me. He does this from his heart because he’s such a strong believer in me. And because he really wants to help other people.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">That’s such a big gift: To have someone in your life who so whole-heartedly believes in you that they can’t help but stand on the street corner shouting out about your virtues. </span><br /><br />With that kind of love supporting you, you’ll always be able to swim through even the toughest storms- together.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A soulmate love is one where you believe so strongly in each other, that you want to be each other’s Shameless Promoter!</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Readers: Who is YOUR Shamelessly Promoting angel? Share with us how they helped you find your magic, reach your dream!<br /><br /></span><span>Ps. In our house almost all of us, including the dogs, cats, and horses have an angel nickname</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span>to remind us how</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span>we touch each other's soul and bring light into each other's lives! Why not honor the angel in everyone!!<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-65349646047218633202009-04-18T18:59:00.000-07:002009-04-18T19:08:46.519-07:00Awww- How Sweet- Literally!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjFv9uA-CG7_bhyxwWmooBCFPrQm7TIky8WZKYjlDSrmESevIas4-m_cCQBeqmxnQVYmW-fHfTo1HjAH6MJ5BbPbHcwQSktlcVRCpyXRDWmsAagRHaqhc_s4welf8IZYq8NBBmtyHZro/s1600-h/cadburyminieggs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjFv9uA-CG7_bhyxwWmooBCFPrQm7TIky8WZKYjlDSrmESevIas4-m_cCQBeqmxnQVYmW-fHfTo1HjAH6MJ5BbPbHcwQSktlcVRCpyXRDWmsAagRHaqhc_s4welf8IZYq8NBBmtyHZro/s200/cadburyminieggs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326218077728552466" border="0" /></a>I love it when Greg comes home with a surprise.<br /><br />"Close your eyes, and hold out your hands," he tells me.<br /><br />I comply and immediately I know what it is- almost before I start feeling the blob-y bag with my hands- without looking, of course!<br /><br />It's Cadbury's Chocolate Mini-Eggs!!!!!<br /><br />My all-time, very favorite chocolate!<br /><br />But it's only available around Easter time. So, it's always a big deal in our house when we open up our first bag of them.<br /><br />Thank god they are only temporarily available, because it's like crack to me. I almost can't stopping eating that crunchy goodness!<br /><br />But that doesn't stop Greg from buying several bags at a time and stocking me up for the season. Whenever we get low, he'll bring home another couple of bags.<br /><br />I'm always so touched that he remembers to look for them that time of year!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And I always feel so loved that he goes out of his way to make me squeal with delight. I'm sure the squeal and it's accompanying grin and happy dance- is it's own reward for him!</span><br /><br />Thank you Greg, for always going out of your way to make me happy with the little things!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readers:</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">How does your partner make you squeal with delight & surprise? Please share!</span>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-89645596875268500532009-03-30T13:42:00.000-07:002009-03-30T17:35:27.216-07:00Who's Win Was it Anyway?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfBp_fkHg3Rz-ShGXRZbvd7plcWOeWHsTl0vg5KdcNG92QF6uSaIBD_bkaezkGXZiCJ4JJGZx5CpOpwAodUaL-CWvj3PHQpjaLVmHcHhIB32b0jkMWfCKySrrYdSAJQHntlLF1GMHtZI/s1600-h/airport.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfBp_fkHg3Rz-ShGXRZbvd7plcWOeWHsTl0vg5KdcNG92QF6uSaIBD_bkaezkGXZiCJ4JJGZx5CpOpwAodUaL-CWvj3PHQpjaLVmHcHhIB32b0jkMWfCKySrrYdSAJQHntlLF1GMHtZI/s200/airport.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319143723885251634" border="0" /></a>According to MapQuest, I'm 589 miles and more than 9 hours from Jenn.<br /><br />Actually, although the distance is correct, the time is really more like 2 1/2 hours, by air. I'm currently sitting in the Kansas City "International" Airport, enjoying a frosty beverage, waiting for my flight to start boarding. I've been here the last two weeks and I'm more than ready to get back home.<br /><br />As luck would have it, these weren't the best weeks to be away from Jenn. We're a little more than week in to her new membership website (<a href="http://www.mysoulmatesolution.com/">http://www.mysoulmatesolution.com/</a>) being up and running and she had a big speaking engagement last Wednesday. And I feel horrible that I haven't been there to support her in person.<br /><br /><div></div><strong>A great part of our relationship is the true joy we take in each other's accomplishments. Jenn says she never sees me light up the way I do when we're celebrating one of her successes. And I'd have to agree with her. </strong><br /><br /><div></div>I'm always so proud of her when she accomplishes something that she's been working hard for. Whether it's being quoted in Cosmo, being featured in 5280 (a popular local glossy magazine), appearing as an expert in MSN Dating or in Happen (Match.com's e-zine) articles, being interviewed on TV or launching a truly revolutionary dating coaching site, I take great pride in all of Jenn's successes.<br /><div> </div><br /><div>She is an amazing woman who is absolutely passionate about her role as a dating and relationship expert. <strong>To see her succeed after so many years of hard work gives me as much or more joy than I would feel if I was the one who accomplishing so much. </strong></div><br /><div></div><div>I am so proud of Jenn for chasing her dream and working so hard to build her vision. And I'm grateful to be along for the ride, sharing in all of her accomplishments.</div><br /><div></div>Readers: How do you celebrate your partner's wins?Greghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10244987307814974536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-42093561622062471342009-03-17T18:47:00.000-07:002009-03-17T18:54:50.750-07:00An Irish Blessing for You<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMTPEPPGJ1J0gqIv_ZSJ5p6gmMQRA7FkX7v909-VJ0i6e94NURvKv6r_PLUy-sbQjpoQqxhMnPexD9MEUKiSunhGU0UxOdgkYBoQ8xyzkwGSGyxoCQAC8LIfrqPvz8uABgQdjJQtPqPfc/s1600-h/saying+the+poem.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314339834894425154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMTPEPPGJ1J0gqIv_ZSJ5p6gmMQRA7FkX7v909-VJ0i6e94NURvKv6r_PLUy-sbQjpoQqxhMnPexD9MEUKiSunhGU0UxOdgkYBoQ8xyzkwGSGyxoCQAC8LIfrqPvz8uABgQdjJQtPqPfc/s200/saying+the+poem.jpg" border="0" /></a>I'm super Irish, with the white skin and matching freckles- so to celebrate good ole St Patrick- I'm sharing with you this Irish blessing.<br /><div></div><br /><div>We wrapped up our wedding ceremony last year with it- so it's a favorite!</div><br /><div></div><div><strong>A Blessing from St. Patrick<br /></strong><br />May the road rise to meet you, </div><div>May the wind be always at your back, </div><div>May the sun shine warm upon your face, </div><div>May the rains fall soft upon your fields, </div><div>And, until we meet again, </div><div>May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.</div><br /><div></div><div>And so too, for love.</div><br /><div>May you be blessed to have these winsome conditions on <em>your</em> journey of the heart!</div><br /><div>Indeed, you can make it so!<br /><br /><strong>Bless your love, every single day.</strong> </div><div> </div><div>Readers: Please share how you bless your love!</div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-80849041496587984292009-03-03T10:28:00.000-08:002009-03-03T10:41:00.244-08:00Serving with Love: A Doggy Tale<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309031778190067858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvUyRuFjn39cz-2JRyDwh79c0qcRrr2_NMl4DGjHezIvNkX3cPJtnNpjChamwPtV2A51iSieMHJKjd2Hf7Zg81O0Ty_b9tfhp7TXu7G-LHDVWVnoVkAyhjmr97DsJnW33IKozjq0bnW-U/s200/new+best+friends.jpg" border="0" />Lately, too many times, I’ve found our greyhound, Ice, piled in a quivering heap on the floor, desperately trying to get up, with his back legs not quite cooperating the way they did when he was a youth.<br /><br />Yup, there’s no doubt about it, Ice is getting old.<br /><br />There’s a hitch in his giddy-up when he runs. And he doesn’t get up and down stairs the way he used to.<br /><br />In fact, there is a big step in our garage and every time he goes up it, you have to support his hind end with a little pick up. And when he goes to get up after lying down awhile, or over night, he appreciates it if you help an old man out.<br /><br />Now, I think I’ve said this before. <strong>But I am not a dog person.</strong> It’s those soft, cute kitties and that purring sound that makes my heart all melty inside. And Ice is Greg’s dog.<br /><br />Ice and the Beagle, they came with Greg- a package deal.<br /><br />So “loving” Ice hasn’t come, shall we say, naturally. In fact, I’ll admit it.<br /><br />There are times when I am self-absorbed in work, and the needs of the dogs, seem, well, annoying. “What? You need some love, RIGHT now?” Or, “Good lord, must you get outside<em> just</em> this minute?”<br /><br />I know what you are thinking, “Thank goodness she doesn’t have kids”- and believe me, I agree.<br />So, it’s been interesting to note how I’ve taken to all of this “little extra care.”<br /><br />Actually, I’ve been surprised to find that whenever I lift him up, I do it with, well, love. I see he needs help, and <strong>I extend myself to offer it to him</strong>.<br /><br />As I place my hands under his legs, I feel it, <em>right there</em>, a warm bit of tender, loving care, emanating from my heart to him. I’m doing it to help. I’m doing it to make his life easier. And I’m doing it because, it’s the right thing to do, of course.<br /><br />But it feels nice to offer it, to be of assistance, even in a small way. But most especially, to offer it with real love, not begrudgingly, and not just with neutrality, but with warmth in my heart. Tenderness, given without expectation of any return.<br /><br /><strong>Like a tiny little gift each time, I am serving him, but there is a reward for us both.<br /></strong><br />As I’ve been pondering the WAY in which I’ve been offering assistance to Ice, it struck me that it’s the <strong>same choice we can make to help our partners</strong>, with the things that otherwise we find annoying.<br /><br />Let’s take that ever increasing line of travel mugs that Greg takes to work to support his coffee habit. They have a way of piling up next to the sink, waiting for someone to take pity on them, and wash them out. I hate doing it, so I let them gather there. And Greg usually washes them.<br /><br />Or the toilet bowls, which quite frankly, don’t wash themselves either. And Greg hates cleaning them, so he never does.<br /><br />These are choice moments. <strong>The kind of choices that make the difference between love that lasts a lifetime and love that peters out before the 7 year itch.<br /></strong><br /><strong>Can I choose to wash his mugs or clean the toilets, with the same love in my heart that I pick up Ice with, knowing that each is like a tiny gift to Greg- something that makes his life easier?<br /></strong><br />In fact, I’ve already been doing the toilets like that. Yes! The toilets are a gift to Greg! But we can always take it a step farther…and for me, it’s those darn mugs.<br /><br />I need to start picking each of those mugs up, seeing it as an opportunity to serve Greg, in a tiny, warm way. <strong>I can wash that mug with love, with tenderness in my heart, seeing it as a small offering, a small gift of assistance.</strong> Or I can continue to see each mug as an annoyance- which irritates us both.<br /><br />You have that choice too! With every sock you pick up, with every meal you cook, every shirt you fold, every trash can you take out, every toothpaste cap you have to put back on.<br /><br /><strong>You can turn any annoyance into a small gift, by choosing to serve in love, with warmth in your heart.</strong> All it takes is seeing it as an opportunity to give willingly to your partner, simply because it feels good to help out. <em>And your bond is strengthened, right then and there.<br /></em><br /><strong>That’s how love lasts a lifetime, one mug lovingly cleaned at a time, one sock tenderly picked up, one errand sweetly undertaken in higher service, not only to our partner, <em>but to our love</em>.<br /></strong><br />I’m glad Ice is teaching me this lesson deeply now, because I am sure that ever greater acts of kindness will be needed as he ages, as Greg and I, also grow older.<br /><br /><strong>Thank you Ice for training my heart to give in service to love.<br /></strong><br /><strong>Readers:</strong> What annoyance can you shift into an opportunity to serve kindly, in love?Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-44384492122912681392009-02-16T09:37:00.000-08:002009-02-16T09:47:44.151-08:00Dragon Power<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqf0tgqBtZhuXQVIL408VV29eHPj7WZSJzsCoQK8TOUd0y-GyLt36RasTNbDRwo3J2n32V5cg25rNb-DZnWn_-s98odEWmxFlCWYS9MVVGgrnVI8ixajKOXjn365Wc9JykrrukNQCRc4/s1600-h/IMG_1811.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303452542385238626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqf0tgqBtZhuXQVIL408VV29eHPj7WZSJzsCoQK8TOUd0y-GyLt36RasTNbDRwo3J2n32V5cg25rNb-DZnWn_-s98odEWmxFlCWYS9MVVGgrnVI8ixajKOXjn365Wc9JykrrukNQCRc4/s200/IMG_1811.JPG" border="0" /></a>Greg’s been carrying a little green, stone Dragon in his pocket these days. And it makes me smile. In fact, it makes me feel loved.<br /><br />See, recently I learned about the concept of Power Animals.<br /><br />Popular among many ancient traditional societies, including the Native American tradition, <strong>power animals are said to look after and guide us on our earthly walk</strong>.<br /><br />The story goes that each of us has a power animal from the time of our birth. And from their place in the spirit realm, our power animal, also known as an animal totem, teaches and protects us.<br /><br />Whether or not you believe in the literal idea of having a power animal, playing with the concept of animal-as-guide can still be a powerful experience, <strong>helping us step into our strength in times of need.<br /></strong><br />Well, needless to say, Greg, Mr. Accountant, doesn’t believe in the spiritual idea of power animals, but I had an image of him as a child with a playful dragon.<br /><div></div><br /><div>So I suggested that he might consider adopting the dragon as his power animal. He could draw on the fiery-ness of the dragon to help him step into his power and assert his needs- he’s a bit of a softie! He agreed- sort of.<br /><br />A few weeks later, we visited a gem and mineral shop and I encouraged him to select a Dragon to give him a physical reminder of his new power animal. In the picture, you can see the diminutive green dragon he chose.<br /><br /><em>Now, this is one tiny dragon, and you’d think he’d be easily lost, or soon tossed aside, amid a pile of household junk.<br /></em><br /><strong>But, no, Greg’s been carrying his Dragon in his pants pocket. Every day to work. And sometimes even to the ski slope. And at night he carefully sits in a brass turtle in our closet, awaiting the next day’s adventure.<br /></strong><br />Sometimes, he’ll even take the Dragon out of his pocket and have me give it a little kiss.<br /><br />This all warms my heart. Why?<br /><br /><strong>Because he took an idea that wasn’t at all personally appealing to him and he ran with it, just because I asked him to.<br /></strong><br />Because he took the idea farther than I ever expected him to. I even sometimes get emails from "My Prince and his Dragon."<br /><br />Because he’s been so loving to that tiny little stone Dragon-<strong> showing that he’s now adopted the idea of the Dragon’s worth for his own.</strong></div><br /><div>I asked Greg why he’s been carrying Dragon and he told me because it’s like having a little good luck charm along for the daily ride- and it helps him be fierce and fire-breathing when necessary.<br />Sort of like a trustworthy companion, I guess. </div><br /><div></div><div>The way I feel when our dog Ice accompanies me on pony poop cleaning duty, or even the way I feel now about seat belts- when I’m strapped in, it just feels right- safe and protected. But when I forget, I feel naked and vulnerable. A bit less invincible. Without the confidence that comes when you carry a little dragon that reminds you, that you can indeed, breathe fire.<br /><br />And it all clarifies for me, <strong>that this is the beautiful give and take that makes up a wonderful love</strong>. </div><br /><div></div><div><strong>When you stretch yourself just a little because your partner asks, and soon you find a new enjoyable dimension to yourself that you didn’t realize was there. And you may never have found, if it weren’t for your partner. </strong></div><br /><div></div><div>In the end, that’s how we grow as people, as partners, in love, one little stretch, together, at a time. <strong>Until our combined worlds encompass more than we ever dreamed possible.</strong> Including even little imaginary-fire breathing dragons.<br /><br /><strong>Readers: How has a partner inspired you to stretch, only to find a new, enjoyable part of yourself?</strong></div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-45227004367040188772009-01-30T16:45:00.000-08:002009-02-02T10:33:55.819-08:00Birthday Wishes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHM-Y8RtnPrgHhiqkuqqIJThiHyzez0azlX4dtNbAhVv36VNhW3rQtSxxkwvseYZpbJXvgopg3_Hg3mbGKKVTSEXmkMrKS9vgXwmfxieEAoSg6l_3orB01msPQwKsITViAp0hph3BVoI/s1600-h/dancing+cheek+to+cheek.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHM-Y8RtnPrgHhiqkuqqIJThiHyzez0azlX4dtNbAhVv36VNhW3rQtSxxkwvseYZpbJXvgopg3_Hg3mbGKKVTSEXmkMrKS9vgXwmfxieEAoSg6l_3orB01msPQwKsITViAp0hph3BVoI/s200/dancing+cheek+to+cheek.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298269538488822610" border="0" /></a>Last Monday was our 1st wedding anniversary. And yesterday was Greg’s 38th birthday.<br /><br /><div></div>I never got to meet Greg’s Mom because she was killed by a drunk driver when he was 17 years old.<br /><div><br /><strong>I’ve longed to meet her so that I could thank her for giving the gift of Greg to the world, and especially to me!<br /></strong><br />What would I thank her for exactly?<br /><br />For raising a son in this culture who is:</div><br />- So generous with his time and attention to others<br /><div>- So thoughtful of others needs<br />- So affectionate, emotionally available, and loving<br />- So conscientious and responsible<br />- So trustworthy and reliable<br />- So sweet and endearing<br />- So dependable and loyal<br />- So supportive and uplifting<br />- So willing to learn and grow<br />- So able to be an equal, 50-50% partner in a relationship<br />- So willing to go above and beyond whatever is called for<br /><br /><strong>I’d give her a great big hug and tell her she must have been the best mom ever to have raised such an amazing man!<br /></strong><br />For all of these reasons and many more, I am the luckiest girl alive.<br /></div><br /><div></div><strong>Every day I marvel at how easy and joyful love can be when you have a wonderful partner who’s a great fit for you.<br /></strong><br />From this deep gratitude grows my mission to help everyone find their own soulmate love.<br /><br /><div>So Happy, Happy Birthday Greg.<br /><br />I am so grateful you were born yesterday, 38 years ago.<br /></div><br />You have been the biggest gift of my lifetime.<br /><br /><div></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">And I look forward to celebrating every one of your birthday’s together till we are old and grey and sitting in a porch swing, cuddled up, still so grateful for the joy our love has brought us!</span><br /><br /><div></div>You are my sun, my moon, and my stars- lighting my way with ever-lasting love.<br /><br /><div>You are my angel.<br /></div><br /><div></div>And I love you.<br /><br /><div>Thank you for being you.</div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-31625129807540996652009-01-26T09:09:00.000-08:002009-01-27T15:27:46.207-08:00First Anniversary Love<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7o3XcYQpxC0MhZ33SsyL8RkSYb4KE98qkAVLWqv8QfPXn8A07p4Uyd8FkT0Bk0CTHP4HZvN8XCifnkueBv2U7_QKyi6TYjMoiZ3uc-EmRkuZ-apfwblWlnztMiQEHrWV-i3wDyHvegA/s1600-h/wall+kiss+closer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296119092398976674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7o3XcYQpxC0MhZ33SsyL8RkSYb4KE98qkAVLWqv8QfPXn8A07p4Uyd8FkT0Bk0CTHP4HZvN8XCifnkueBv2U7_QKyi6TYjMoiZ3uc-EmRkuZ-apfwblWlnztMiQEHrWV-i3wDyHvegA/s200/wall+kiss+closer.jpg" border="0" /></a> Well, one year ago today, I was standing in the warm, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">waining</span> sunlight of a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">gorgeous</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Miami</span> day under a white <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">gazebo</span>. The bay was behind me and I was dressed in a brand new navy blue <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pinstripe</span> suit.<br /><br /><div>Friends and family were gathered around from far flung areas of the country and my beautiful bride was standing just inside the french doors of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mediterranean</span>-style house we had rented for the w<span style="font-size:+0;"></span><span style="font-size:+0;"></span>eek. </div><br /><div>Before long, Me and You by Kenny <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Chesney</span> began playing and Jenn started her long walk down the aisle. Or more accurately down the stairs, across the tennis court and through the lawn to me where she sang the last verse of the song and spun me at the end. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Definitely</span> not your traditional wedding!</div><div> </div><div>But what else could I expect from Jenn? </div><br /><div>Jenn is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">nontraditional</span> in almost every sense of the word. She's a psychologist who practices as a dating coach starting a membership site to help singles. She grew up outside of Boston but listens to Country music. She's a cute girlie-girl who drives a big pickup truck. And she's a person who sees things in varying shades of grey who married a man who sees everything in black and white.</div><br /><div>But all of this is what makes Jenn so special. She's always challenging me to see things differently. To open my eyes and see different <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">possibilities</span>. To leave my black and white world and step in to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">her's</span>, in all of it's technicolor wonder.</div><br /><div>And all of this helps me to be a better, more rounded person. And I simply can't thank Jenn enough for that. For putting up with me and my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">stubborn</span> streak. For continually pushing me, even when I push back. For helping me expand my point of view, even when it's uncomfortable for me to do so. </div><br /><div>Jenn is making me a better person and I hope I am doing the same. Every day I love her more and more and our relationship gets better and better and I'm thankful for that, most of all.</div>Greghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10244987307814974536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-33743184290226593162009-01-05T11:58:00.000-08:002009-03-30T17:22:02.284-07:00Delighted In<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EVEgdnFl88VKN0Bo-k6HoUE7aPJ7oyRame8vHZCyrM_-tPR1HLFD-M3CJGVgZRAg_IkOjWZ4SyL_yvDlVV9AUfzSF9zWjyttzeFeU6wU1-amnz4_PVWdkezDwVMqJnC4VDaFBsQmF5c/s1600-h/the+spin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EVEgdnFl88VKN0Bo-k6HoUE7aPJ7oyRame8vHZCyrM_-tPR1HLFD-M3CJGVgZRAg_IkOjWZ4SyL_yvDlVV9AUfzSF9zWjyttzeFeU6wU1-amnz4_PVWdkezDwVMqJnC4VDaFBsQmF5c/s200/the+spin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319140481494526770" border="0" /></a><strong>Do you know what it's like to be delighted in?</strong><br /><br /><strong>It's an amazing feeling of being cherished and adored. And yes, delighted, as it tickles the inside of your heart with smiling love.<br /><br />We delight in small children, we delight in pets- causing them to feel so enjoyed, so loved. We sometimes even delight in the wonders of the natural world. That comes naturally to most people. </strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">But once we grow up- it's not often we get the gift of being truly delighted in. We forget to experience the wonder of each other.</span></strong><br /><br /><strong>So, to delight in your partner? Now, that's a beautiful, deep gift.</strong><br /><br /><strong>Greg has been especially loving lately.<br /><br />It's not something you can fake.<br /><br />It's in his warm eyes, the way he looks at me, when he tells me how much I mean to him.<br /><br />It's in his broad smile, and the twinkle in his eyes, when he clearly is simply delighted by something silly I've done.<br /><br />There is not enough delight in our adult life. And surely not enough delight <em>between</em> us adults.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">So when Greg gives me the gift of being delighted in, it touches the very depths of my soul, reaffirming just how worthy I am to give and receive love.</span> </strong><br /><br /><strong>That's what delighting in does for the receiver- it affirms your very worth.</strong><br /><br /><strong>Not that you need to know from someone else that you are worthy- because we all just ARE worthy. That's our natural state.<br /></strong><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">But the people in our lives serve as mirrors</span>- and when that mirror shines pure delight- it's a grateful reminder that:<br /><br />Yes, I am loved.<br />Yes, I can bring pleasure to those around me.<br />And yes, everything is right in the world!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">That's something I didn't get enough of long ago, but when your partner offers it freely, it heals ancient wounds, bringing you back to your original state of greatness, where you can bask in the glowing light of love.<br /></span><br />Dearest Greg, thank you so much for delighting in me. It may be one of the most precious gifts of all.<br /><br />I hope you know how much delight you bring to me.<br /><br />How can you, dear reader, give the gift of being delighted in to someone you love today?</strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);">Readers: Please share your own experiences of being delighted in!</span></strong>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-74474838913418517422008-12-16T10:08:00.000-08:002008-12-16T10:47:55.297-08:00The Love Lesson of Sunsets: Radical Appreciation & Acceptance<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSB0lNdZU_nCCzK56kf0GoYUpX9xYHSPBQfV2f3gZOlGkOGdI8Y6Gg2N5lXx__teoVDQK4czpC1h8KFDZCb7P5bt16PyIhyphenhyphen05oraqTXFe69T96ca7WlMHSBU7e-voUP7ErJhT_vr9LmCc/s1600-h/IMG_1338.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280453514236328498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSB0lNdZU_nCCzK56kf0GoYUpX9xYHSPBQfV2f3gZOlGkOGdI8Y6Gg2N5lXx__teoVDQK4czpC1h8KFDZCb7P5bt16PyIhyphenhyphen05oraqTXFe69T96ca7WlMHSBU7e-voUP7ErJhT_vr9LmCc/s200/IMG_1338.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>I’m learning so much about life by watching and admiring the daily sunsets here at the ranch.<br /><br />Sometimes they are fiery red, all passionately ablaze.<br /><br />Sometimes they are spectacular, knock your socks off, oranges and pinks, </strong><strong>painted wildly across the sky, </strong><strong>like the Universe’s personal canvas.<br /><br />Sometimes they are soft, light, comforting hues of pinks, </strong><strong>gracefully caressing the horizon.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRwVA9DWjbgpWxNjhkGEQgheGa5sDXx3wmoCcQsaMZCiBobvkk0UVbVBBwtIV-uu9tAFvhEc3uU6EYL18cg2FVUZ95BZKlm583jZ_GclI0em10bmKnXC1N1jY-PVsrxsxopYZRb5Dfzo/s1600-h/sunset+cam+12.9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280453817815603746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRwVA9DWjbgpWxNjhkGEQgheGa5sDXx3wmoCcQsaMZCiBobvkk0UVbVBBwtIV-uu9tAFvhEc3uU6EYL18cg2FVUZ95BZKlm583jZ_GclI0em10bmKnXC1N1jY-PVsrxsxopYZRb5Dfzo/s200/sunset+cam+12.9.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Sometimes day just fades to dusk in gentle shades of yellow, peach, or grey.<br /><br />And sometimes, a sunset that seems as if it will go off without a bang, surprises you with burning fireworks of glory, right at the end.<br /><br />Each is so different, and it’s quite easy to grow a fondness for the most striking ones, and <span style="color:#66ffff;">feel a tad disappointed when the sky fails to live up to yesterday’s amazement.<br /></span><br />Yet all are beautiful when you approach them with gratitude in your heart, with appreciation for the <span style="color:#66ffff;">opportunity to watch the process unfold once again.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">And a willingness to accept them as they are, rather than as you would want them to be.<br /></span><br />Even the subtle ones, are naturally stunning in their own right, <span style="color:#66ffff;">if you’re not expecting them to be something they are not.<br /></span><br />There seems to be a striking lesson in life and love here for the taking:<br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">You can extract every possible moment of pleasure from life, from your relationship when you accept life, when you accept your partner, exactly as they are. Not needing them to be other than they are, right this moment.<br /></span><br />Just approaching them with appreciation, soaking up whatever beauty stands before you, in whatever form it has manifested.<br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">I realized that this gift of unconditional acceptance is perhaps Greg’s biggest gift to me. He gives it daily.<br /></span><br />No matter how I show up, he finds a way to see the beauty in it and by doing so, I’m encouraged to raise myself up to be a more beautiful person. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">To match the beauty he sees. Then suddenly, I get to see it in myself too.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">Dear Readers: Not that you should never request change, but just for today, I invite you to practice radical appreciation & acceptance of What Is.<br /></span><br />Maintain a child-like curiosity: “I wonder how it will go down today?!” Find beauty in all of it’s facets.<br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">Notice the difference it makes in your heart.</span></strong><span style="color:#66ffff;"> </span>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-53025404982177602032008-12-07T16:54:00.000-08:002008-12-07T17:38:49.617-08:00Abandoning Monochromatic for Technicolor<strong>Here's something I never knew about myself: I hate the color taupe.</strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">In my mind, it's not so much a color as a tragic lack of color. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-3lUQ6gYIC4gsEII2Ml-zKiNI-5DVE9P5Jo0QdsG-GYZLljibTgc9ORRJXZ3yb-OQdQOZtyh2XOGR4nFBo_Qq8kozrgdR7KbiEOXizHd7s6wtUwB5KG-82VuKreP8NHeNbBcarFpMhvY/s1600-h/painting.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277227112859636914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 91px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-3lUQ6gYIC4gsEII2Ml-zKiNI-5DVE9P5Jo0QdsG-GYZLljibTgc9ORRJXZ3yb-OQdQOZtyh2XOGR4nFBo_Qq8kozrgdR7KbiEOXizHd7s6wtUwB5KG-82VuKreP8NHeNbBcarFpMhvY/s200/painting.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></strong><br /><br /><strong>It's so boring, so blah, <em>so depressing</em>.</strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Too bad Greg had painted his entire house Taupe.</span> </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>The house I moved into and lived in with him for 3 </strong><br /><strong>years before we were blessed with this ranch.</strong><br /><br /><strong>Greg likes Taupe- it's a fine, solid, soothing, no ruffles in your feather kind of color. I mean how could taupe offend anyone!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Except me!</strong><br /><br /><strong>It was only during the last 8 months when I realized the effect floor-to-ceiling Taupe was having on me: it was actually depressing me, stifling, snuffing out my joy!</strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Essentially, it just wasn't ME- it was the opposite of me. </span></strong><br /><br /><strong>I love color- bold, bright, beautiful color. It makes me feel alive. </strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Surrounded by taupe in every single room, I felt dead inside!</span></strong><br /><br /><strong>Once I realized that, finally put a name on it, I became excited about having a fresh canvas at our future new home. </strong><br /><br /><strong>Finally, free at last to paint however I choose!</strong><br /><br /><strong>I ran to the library to get books on color, lots of books filled with crazy bold color combinations. </strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Soon I started envisioning a home with a different color splashed across every room! I wanted red rooms, green rooms, blue rooms. </span></strong><br /><br /><strong>Heck, I even planned a vibrant orange and pink room and I wanted my office to be purple and yellow!</strong><br /><br /><strong>Then I took my enthusiastic plans to Greg, after all, he had to live in this house too! </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What if he hated the idea of color all over the home? He, who was happy having a light shade of brown all over his last home.</span></strong><br /><br /><strong>What he said was music to my ears!</strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">"Sure, whatever you want, you should do it. I'll help you paint!"</span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What a gift he was giving me, allowing myself to be surrounded by colors that make my heart sing!</span></strong><br /><br /><strong>We talked some more, and it turns out that he was even grateful for my nudge out of the blah zone. Maybe he wouldn't LOVE every color I chose, but he was up for an adventure- even a yellow and purple one! </strong><br /><br /><strong>Lest I think he was just caving to please me, recently while we were watching a home decorating show, the host said <span style="color:#66ffff;">"You never want to paint the walls something too personal, too out of the ordinary (read- paint it taupe). When you go to sell, other people have to be able to envision living there."</span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">And Greg spontaneously said, "To hell with that! It's your home and you are living in it- you might as well do what makes you the happiest!"</span></strong><br /><br /><strong>Such sweet sweet words, from a man who wants me to be happy. Who's ready to help me be happy. Who's even willing to stretch himself out of his comfort zone in support of my happiness. </strong><br /><br /><strong>A man who supports all of my visions, because he loves me. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">And he knows that living in my technicolor world, brightens up his monochromatic world, every single day.</span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What greater gift than the gift of free self expression is there?</span></strong><br /><br /><strong>My gift to him? The first room we painted was his office- a lovely forest green, he selected! </strong><br /><br /><strong>How does your partner help you live out loud? How do they support your own self expression?</strong><br /><br /><strong>Please share.</strong>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-1088763148469775702008-11-28T12:14:00.001-08:002008-11-28T12:46:36.570-08:00Thanksgiving: Who Has Been Your Human Angel?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6FzQL0ytjTOn3akxDJXHChPVIkiKdJyCdIgSCjv6Xp0EzfCGviL0p7g5gSGrUvqFe_uZhDgMRKODBxtQdkwODcABC3VlfnZYGYNGqx__Soxig9ShNbIGgGVjuUFxZZX9fZHZTEeyMcw/s1600-h/after+the+ceremony.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273810817510059170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6FzQL0ytjTOn3akxDJXHChPVIkiKdJyCdIgSCjv6Xp0EzfCGviL0p7g5gSGrUvqFe_uZhDgMRKODBxtQdkwODcABC3VlfnZYGYNGqx__Soxig9ShNbIGgGVjuUFxZZX9fZHZTEeyMcw/s200/after+the+ceremony.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong>Recently the <a href="http://dailyom.com/">Daily Om </a>newsletter wrote about <span style="color:#66ffff;">Human Angels, </span><span style="color:#ffffff;">those people who step into our lives at just the right moment to offer just the perfect, most needed thing.<br /><br /><br /></span></strong></div><div></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Immediately, I knew that Greg has been my angel. </span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>Maybe it's one of the nicknames I gave him, Angel, that gave it away. Maybe it's because since our early days I've been telling him, "You're my angel."</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">But mostly, I know it's true, because from the moment I met him, my life has changed dramatically for the best. </span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>I credit his love and support for saving my life. With him by my side, I've healed from an almost deadly chronic fatigue to radiant health. From a depressed and dreadful pessimist, to a sunny, optimist whose playful passion comes out to frolic daily. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>And this past year has been no different. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>Even through my dramatic spiritual awakening that neither of us were prepared for, his love held strong. Even when I started talking about all manner of spiritual things, which being the eternal logical type, he still can't grasp or believe- his love keep us tightly together. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>And this all happened a few months before we were supposed to get married! He just jumped into the fire, fully expecting that we'd sink or swim together. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">His love holds no room for doubt. </span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What a truly amazing gift!</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>And having that anchor, that steady, strong, unwavering love, has allowed me to continue blossoming into the healer and teacher I am called to be. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>Without him, I am not sure I would have made it this far. I KNOW I would not have been able to come so far, so fast.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>I know he considers me something of his angel too. I'm not so sure about that!</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">But I know the gifts that he gives to me could come from nothing less than an Angel.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;"></span></strong></div><div><strong>Thank you Greg, with all of my heart and soul, for giving me back to myself and for helping to make my dreams come true, every day.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>With you by my side, I deeply know that everything is possible- through the beauty of our pure, sweet love.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>You truly are my angel.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Readers: Who has been your angel? How have they helped you? Big or small? Thank them here!</span></strong></div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-87589664577442042842008-11-24T15:39:00.000-08:002008-11-26T16:23:51.652-08:00Date Line: Des Moines<strong>What is this? A note?<br /><br />Unfortunately, I have to travel on occasion. And when I do, I always miss Jenn. We talk on the phone but it still isn't the same as being with her.<br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">Before we started this blog, we would write "love notes" to each other every weekday morning, without fail. However, when I would have to leave for a business trip we couldn't maintain our ritual.<br /></span><br />One day, however, when I was unpacking my clothes at my hotel, I noticed a bright yellow-green recipe card. On the card was a quick note from Jenn. Nothing long, just a quick note saying that she loved and missed me.<br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">But that wasn't all. The more I unpacked, the more notes I found.</span> It turns out that Jenn had snuck into my luggage and hid a bunch of short notes telling me what she loved about me, what she was missing about me and how she couldn't wait until I came home.<br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">Jenn had found a way to continue our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ritual</span>, even when I wasn't home. She went out of her way to make sure I felt loved and adored and not so lonely. And it worked.<br /></span><br />What does your sweetie do for you when you go out of town? Please share.</strong>Greghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10244987307814974536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-26288448182701708092008-11-24T13:15:00.001-08:002008-11-24T13:28:04.675-08:00Early Morning Chicken Inspires Me!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCPey-lIOpXPCTtULQLSmXW77v3frMircQxoCm3JG3bx3LJebLPJRvRBm1D-KaYBvT8KjUidaKjHIedsTH4XExmUB5NTzlFMhxqpamUvbh_VJCa_-aJiT7MawJCzb81-OyO10_jvbcHA/s1600-h/cook+greg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272338781129454162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCPey-lIOpXPCTtULQLSmXW77v3frMircQxoCm3JG3bx3LJebLPJRvRBm1D-KaYBvT8KjUidaKjHIedsTH4XExmUB5NTzlFMhxqpamUvbh_VJCa_-aJiT7MawJCzb81-OyO10_jvbcHA/s200/cook+greg.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong>Gosh, I feel so grateful today!</strong><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>My husband had to leave the house today at 8am for a flight out of town.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">And before he left, he cooked me chicken!!</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>So I would have something to eat while he was away!!</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#66ffff;">Who does that before 8am?</span></em> </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>He does. Because he loves me. And he's such a giver.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>That is just so darn thoughtful and generous!!! It amazes me. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">I admit, I am learning from him how to be more selflessly giving like that.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">He inspires me to step into my Highest Self. To embody more beautiful traits- even if I am not in the mood, or it's not easy.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>That is an even bigger gift than cooked chicken!</strong></div><br /><div></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What traits does your partner inspire you to embody more fully, through their example?<br /><br /></span></strong></div><div><strong>Please share.</strong></div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-44530645588557891102008-11-21T08:56:00.000-08:002008-11-21T19:27:44.014-08:00Meatloaf and Mashed Potatoes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDtSnsX3xRmKlrcRiefWPkbq6IiWy5wgmOp3xBqrOerNnM4x1w1LOQxhIIao-HshUTura8IWZGWfz78U4UxHxa0ZXv0XccQFwI87Isl4BM2_Gq8n8kYaDNORqI3qq1JJ88oa5fJ9xgH0U/s1600-h/meat+loaf.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270825428073141426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDtSnsX3xRmKlrcRiefWPkbq6IiWy5wgmOp3xBqrOerNnM4x1w1LOQxhIIao-HshUTura8IWZGWfz78U4UxHxa0ZXv0XccQFwI87Isl4BM2_Gq8n8kYaDNORqI3qq1JJ88oa5fJ9xgH0U/s200/meat+loaf.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong>What in the world is Bell's Seasoning?</strong><br /><br /><div><strong>I grew up in the heart of the Mountain West and Jenn grew up in New England, so needless to say, our tastes in food are quite different. </strong></div><br /><div><strong>Jenn grew up eating lobster while I grew up eating <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">burritos</span>. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">She thinks cracked black pepper spicy enough while I can't get enough hot green <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">chili</span>. </span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>My mother, the daughter of a mining engineer, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">grew up</span> in far flung places in the Orient so I learned to eat all sorts of exotic food at a young age. Jenn's folks are stanch New <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Englanders</span></span> so meatloaf, chowder and mashed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">potatoes</span> were staples on her table as a kid. </strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">You might think this disparity of food experience makes it hard for us to agree on what to eat. </span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>But it doesn't. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>We like sharing our lives with each other. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>Not just our lives together, but our lives before we met too. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">And that means trying food that the other person likes.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong>Last weekend we got a package from Jenn's Mom. The package contained Bell's Seasoning. I have never heard of it and it isn't available here in Colorado. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><em>But Jenn swore that Bell's is the key to the perfect meatloaf. </em></strong></div><br /><div><strong><em></em></strong></div><div><strong>So when we were at the store next, we bought all the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ingredients</span> Jenn needed to make meatloaf and mashed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">potatoes</span>, rushed home and made one of Jenn's favorite childhood meals.</strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#33ffff;">I'll have to admit that I couldn't really tell the difference between the meatloaf with the Bell's and the meatloaf she made before with out it.</span> </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>But that really wasn't what was important. </strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What was important is that Jenn was sharing a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">piece</span> of her childhood with me and I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">grateful</span> to be able to experience it with her.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong>What does your sweetie do to share parts of their childhood with you?</strong></div>Greghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10244987307814974536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-16830064945644274052008-11-20T11:06:00.000-08:002008-11-20T11:20:33.654-08:00Do You Know What's On Tonight?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9ByODHT1_t1yOUkJZku1k6DZiXDX_uF_45c1IicTs-w5mqhmcX1_TCqLGBnsBhiE8h4SPY29SQ83QifNghdn3ovjGyQ1b2k2B1Bf2_ypp56YIbdH0lLDMR3sgTH_kZZs-X6feSfV0u4/s1600-h/kenny+chesney+cma.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270821511874959922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9ByODHT1_t1yOUkJZku1k6DZiXDX_uF_45c1IicTs-w5mqhmcX1_TCqLGBnsBhiE8h4SPY29SQ83QifNghdn3ovjGyQ1b2k2B1Bf2_ypp56YIbdH0lLDMR3sgTH_kZZs-X6feSfV0u4/s200/kenny+chesney+cma.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong>The other day I was on the phone with Greg, who was at work.</strong></div><br /><div><strong>He says, "Do You Know What's On Tonight?"</strong></div><br /><div><strong>On TV that is. </strong></div><br /><div><strong>Actually, I had no idea, "No, what?"</strong></div><br /><div><strong>And Greg says, "The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">CMA's</span>!" AKA Country Music Awards.</strong></div><br /><div><strong>I had asked him to tape it for me the previous week. And sweetly, he did.</strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">But even more sweetly- he REMEMBERED!</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong>You might not think that is remarkable- but here's why it is:</strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Greg HATES, hates, hates country music.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">He only remembered because he knows it's important to me.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong>And in a show of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">soulmate</span> solidarity- he even watched them with me!</strong></div><br /><div><strong>Plus, to his credit, he only slightly rolled his eyes when I squealed with delight as Kenny <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Chesny</span> took the stage. </strong></div><br /><div><strong>Now that's love. Real love.</strong></div><br /><div><strong>What does your partner remember for you?? Please share!</strong></div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-15948973396387583242008-11-17T19:56:00.000-08:002008-11-19T09:56:12.813-08:00For the Love of a Man, or an Ice Man<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM43c9dfXLnSm7V0reFiP0WSJgknswAc-A32cQQ1rRQnPY7cttJWMIUoqGloLVaArc21LxcfvGeBijcZpfKJiDTiuWDca2ptyQTVoeAKEEoBCS7p3txqbJXjVW80IdU4J8v34D7YzFzQ0/s1600-h/new+best+friends.jpg"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269851731066697714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM43c9dfXLnSm7V0reFiP0WSJgknswAc-A32cQQ1rRQnPY7cttJWMIUoqGloLVaArc21LxcfvGeBijcZpfKJiDTiuWDca2ptyQTVoeAKEEoBCS7p3txqbJXjVW80IdU4J8v34D7YzFzQ0/s200/new+best+friends.jpg" border="0" /></strong></a><strong>FLAP, FLAP, FLAP! (Ears flying everywhere)</strong><br /><br /><strong>What was that? Oh no, not Ice again.<br /><br /></strong><strong>For some strange reason, our Greyhound Ice Man<br />(and no I don't have some unhealthy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">infatuation</span> with Top Gun, that's the name he came with from the rescue) has been getting up at two or three o'clock in the morning recently. </strong><br /><br /><strong>He doesn't necessarily need to go to the bathroom. It's almost like he's bored or something. What ever the reason, he's up, which means one of us has to get up too.</strong><br /><br /><strong>Now luckily for me, Ice has formed a strong bond with Jenn. Stronger, in fact, then his bond with me. </strong><br /><br /><strong>So when he wakes up, he always goes to Jenn's side of the bed first. <span style="color:#66ffff;">This means that Jenn gets to take him out, right?</span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Not really. Ice is my dog and my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">responsibility</span>. </span></strong><br /><br /><strong>And Jenn would have every right to wake me up to tell me to take him out, especially since Jenn loves sleep more than life itself. But you know what? </strong><br /><br /><strong>Jenn usually takes him out, especially during the week when I have to go to work in the morning. And I really appreciate that because sleep seems to be in short supply in our house.</strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">In reality, Jenn takes Ice out to help me out. </span></strong><br /><br /><strong>It allows me to either stay asleep or fall back to sleep quickly, which makes my mornings much more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tolerable</span>. If I had to get up and let him out, it would cut my five or six hours down to just four or five.</strong><br /><br /><strong>I really appreciate Jenn getting up with Ice and taking such good care of him and me. </strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What does your sweetie do to help you out? Please share.</span></strong>Greghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10244987307814974536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6291446643943186293.post-34633380336968646822008-11-10T11:01:00.000-08:002008-11-10T22:29:54.989-08:00Honey, Look!<div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">"Honey, look over here..."</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong>That's one of the sweetest, most thoughtful phrases Greg says to me.</strong></div><br /><div><strong>That's because it's always followed by something he knows I will like.</strong></div><br /><div><strong>Like a pretty sunset.</strong></div><div><strong>A gorgeous moon.</strong></div><div><strong>Our greyhound galloping.</strong></div><div><strong>The ponies <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">frolicking</span>.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><span style="color:#66ffff;"><strong>But it's especially touching when he's pointing out something <em>he doesn't even LIKE, just because he knows I'll find it adorable.</em></strong></span></div><br /><div><strong>Like our new kitty, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Joie</span>. Greg hates cats, but he knows I'm all mushy for this one. </strong></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ZGV245i0Sa0S4SxqUG98wA4voB0IthdZong_4mv076vCZfj3ZohY8sKUh8GNxvMxzGaR5eJ5_8IUk6u56501SF2vK4CjJaEyTHW9tYHDji0XqMfY7NIZnyWkp9MgImr9Y9uuCR5iQf0/s1600-h/IMG_1098.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267282764904023906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ZGV245i0Sa0S4SxqUG98wA4voB0IthdZong_4mv076vCZfj3ZohY8sKUh8GNxvMxzGaR5eJ5_8IUk6u56501SF2vK4CjJaEyTHW9tYHDji0XqMfY7NIZnyWkp9MgImr9Y9uuCR5iQf0/s200/IMG_1098.JPG" border="0" /></a><strong>So he always tells me to look when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Joie's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">being</span> especially cute.<br /></strong><div><em><strong></strong></em></div><br /><div><strong>It touches me so much to know that he just likes to make me smile, <em>so he's always on the lookout for anything that will make my heart melt. </em></strong></div><br /><div><strong>Gosh, how does a man get so thoughtful!?</strong></div><br /><div><strong>I've won the man lottery with this one!</strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">What does your partner draw to your attention to help make you smile?</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#66ffff;">Please share.</span></strong></div>Dr. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17033688263726004079noreply@blogger.com0