One, maybe two, possibly three, what do you think about four?

When I first met my husband, I was fresh out of a first marriage. I just couldn't see myself ever really being in love again or having a family. Doctors had been telling me since the age of 16 that for me, getting pregnant and actually carrying a child full term would be highly unlikely. I had been through a surgery or two, had cysts removed, adhesions and lesions had taken over my abdomen and had left a lot of scar tissue. The doctor said that if, by chance, I did get pregnant, the pregnancy itself would improve my condition. This just left me feeling like a cat chasing my tail . . . "hey, it's near impossible for you to get pregnant, but if you could, it'd really help, you know!" Then, throw a divorce in that situation and I felt hopeless. I had pretty much set my mind on not ever having children. In fact, when people asked in casual conversation if I wanted children, I'd say "no, not really." But those who REALLY knew me, knew that wasn't true. You see, I thought that if I said that I didn't want children, there would be no disappointment when I couldn't have them. And frankly, at that time during my life, I began to question what sort of parent I would be --- I mean, 27 and divorced . . . I was truly disappointed in myself. And I remember thinking, I would be a horrible mom. #1 - I have no patience --- seriously, I was about the most impatient person I'd ever seen. #2 - I was selfish. #3 - I felt awkward around babies. I grew up babysitting children. Heck, I even had a niece and nephew. And I was fine with children. But babies, I just didn't know what to do. And I wasn't one of those sappy, baby talking, adults. I.JUST.COULDN'T.GO.THERE. And that worried me.

Anyway, getting back to when I met my husband, he wanted a family -- the whole kit and kaboodle -- wife, 3 children, house on the farm with a horseshoe driveway and white picket fence. And in my mind, I could envision all of that. But, eventually I'd have to tell him, that those 3 darling children that he dreamed of having --- well, they wouldn't come from me.

I guess we'd been dating about 7 months when the endometriosis starting acting up. I had horrible pain in my abdomen. I remember heading to work one morning with a heating pad in tow. I sat at my desk in my chair that day with a heating pad on my back, constantly popping ibuprofen. The doctor had given me pain pills, but I was totally against taking those because I knew that I needed to learn to deal with the pain. After all, the only fix for my problem was pregnancy or a hysterectomy. And neither of those were an option for me right now. So, ibuprofen it was.

That day, the pain got so severe that I ended up leaving work, at the urging of my friend and co-worker Teena, and headed to the Urgent Care center. From there, they ran some tests, and sent me to the emergency room so that they could do an ultrasound. I received the results from the ultrasound that evening. They said I had another cyst. And probably more endometriosis that needed to be burned off. You see, 6 years prior, I had surgery to burn off endometriosis and some of the adhesions and lesions. Little did I know that in order to keep myself in good working condition, I needed this surgery every 4 years or so. Huh? That surgery was quite painful and the recovery was all but fast. Every 4 years . . . are you sure?

So, I left the hospital with that news. By that time, I had missed a phone call or two from my now husband -- we'll just call him R. So, I returned R's call, agreed to a dinner date and began to wrack my brain to figure out how I was going to tell him all of this. Y'all -- I liked him. No . . . I REALLY, REALLY liked him. And this news could possibly be a deal breaker. I mean, we were getting serious. We had talked about marriage. And yes, I know. I know that I should have told him the full extent of my condition a long time prior to this moment. But how do you say that.

"Hello guy who I'm dating. Since the age of 16, doctor's have said that I would have a hard time getting pregnant. Every month, I have a miserable day or two with endometriosis that sends me to my bed to lay on a heating pad. There is no definitive answer about my status of becoming pregnant -- I've never tried. But hey, it's stuff you need to consider before even thinking about marrying me."

Ok, well, that was pretty easy -- but actually saying it to him and wondering whether he'd walk out the door -- it was a scary thought. I mean, I'd explained some of my condition before -- and I think he understood and knew more than I gave him credit. But, I felt like I needed to lay it all out on the line. Tell him everything. And hope for the best. I kept thinking, what if the doctors were wrong. Who gave a doctor the authority to tell me what God had planned? In any case, R needed to know.

So, I arrived at R's place, determined to sit down and be fully honest about the situation. He greeted me at the door in his normal fashion -- a kiss, a hug and a "how was your day?" I felt my stomach flip flop. "R, you need to sit down. I have something to tell you . . ."

Marriage, a sacred union -- well not anymore!

Ok, I'm on my soap box again. I clicked open my Internet Explorer and by default (which I've never bothered to changed) the MSN homepage popped up. And right there in front of me, the headline read "The Starter Husband: Is it wrong to have a practice marriage?" Huh? Did I read that correctly? Surely they're joking, right? Well, curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to the article. And beneath the ginormous title read "You'd never buy a car without test-driving it first right? So why settle into a lifelong marriage before trying one on for size?" And OH.MY.GOSH, they were not kidding. They've written a whole, three page article about this! So, to the best of my ability, I'm going to try and sum up just what in the heck this article said . . . and then you'll hear from me!

The article begins telling the story about Andi (wife) and Tucker (husband). Everything is told from Andi's perspective.

"I'm just really not ready to be committed like this." That's what Andi said to Tucker, her husband of 11 months, after she came home from a crazy day at work two years ago with an overwhelming urge to quit her marriage. Today. Right now. "This just isn't for me."

She watched Tucker crumple against the dining-room table. "I don't understand," he said, over and over. "We're married."

"I was married for like, two seconds." That's what Andi says to me today, her enormous kohl-rimmed blue eyes crinkling as she recounts her drive-through union. "It was literally an entry-level marriage."

Hearing her words, I flinch slightly. We're talking about an event that's supposed to be a turning point in life, and she sounds so cavalier. And yet, Andi is only articulating what the one in five women under age 30 who get divorced every year must thinking. (Really? Can I get a witness? Are there any sane, Christian women under 30 willing to chime here?)

THE REASON FOR THE DIVORCE . . .Within months of promising to love and honor and cherish Tucker forever, she knew she had made a huge mistake. The problem? He was boring. "Wholly uncomplicated," as she puts it. The kind of guy who reads Tom Clancy books on the couch and watches Adam Sandler movies while dreaming of white-picket fences. Going to depressing French movies, leapfrogging over the less ambitious on the company ladder — those were the things that excited Andi. "The idea of spending my life with someone like that seemed stifling," she says. "It finally just got to me that he was so . . . sunny." (Was he beating her? No. Was he mean to her? No. Was he controlling her? No. Oh, yes . . . he was BORING, people! Hey Andi, had you met Tucker prior to marrying him? If so, had you not noticed before that he was boring? Or did he all of the sudden become that way after marrying you? Seriously?!?)

"Oh, my God, it was so easy," she says, exhaling loudly. "I realized, I can get out of this, and he can get out of this, and we can get on with our lives." They sold the condo and split the profits, and that was that. She felt bad about hurting his feelings, but she never doubted her decision. I raise an eyebrow. "Never," she repeats. "I think marriage is the new dating and having kids is the new marriage," she proclaims loudly, as yet another woman dining with her partner turns to stare. "It's true. I wouldn't have married him if I didn't think I could get out of it." ("I wouldn't have married him if I didn't think I could get out of it." Let me just ask you Andi . . . are you a compulsive liar or what? Because if you stated the same vows that I did, you said you would love Tucker, honor Tucker and cherish Tucker until death do you part. DEATH.DO.YOU.PART . . . that means FOREVER!! So, why would you say those words and think "I'm only marrying him knowing that I can get out of this thing when I darn well please"? WHY?)

The author of the article says:
Andi was my introduction to the concept of an icebreaker marriage but certainly not my last. Burning through a starter husband is almost becoming a rite of passage: While newly-marrieds everywhere fear the one-in-two-marriages-fail statistic, the more relevant stat is that while the median age at which a woman first marries is 25, the median age at which she first divorces is 29. In fact, 20 percent of marriages fail within five years, and of those, one in four end within two years. So much for until death do us part. For some, a starter husband is like a starter home — a semi-commitment where you're willing to do some of the surface work, like painting the walls, but not the heavy lifting, like gutting the whole foundation; he's just not a long-term investment. Others compare a starter husband to a first job, where you learn some skills and polish your resume before going after the position you really want.

Elisa, another marriage tester outer says:

My own parents' bitter divorce — many, many years in the making — played out right around the time of my engagement. I knew all too well what the seamy underbelly of marriage looked like, and it had made me incredibly cautious about commitment — it took me seven years of dating my husband before I could consider the concept of "forever."

Still, it's a legacy that cuts deep. "We were both like, We're going to do this right! Divorce is for losers," Elisa says of her and her ex's attitude toward their own parents' divorces. But she knew in the back of her mind that there was a plan B, that marriage was not necessarily a binding contract. And when she realized that she didn't even have a clue what a good marriage looked like, let alone what one felt like, she didn't hesitate to produce her Get Out of Jail Free card. "It was a constantly pitched, keyed-up hell," she says. Their downstairs neighbors left a note on their door: "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you people, but you need to stop screaming at each other." (Elisa, did it ever cross your mind to seek help? Do you think that if you marry again, there won't be arguments? Get a clue honey! There WILL be arguments. There may even be YELLING - gasp!)

It's easy to write these women off as callous or self-absorbed (ahem . . . yes!). And yet on some level, they just might be pioneers: Why stay put in an empty shell of a marriage — an arrangement on paper only — instead of calling it what it is? "This generation is reinventing marriage," says Paul. (This whole paragraph just sickens me. Why get into a marriage that is "an arrangement on paper only." Are these people even using their brains? Where is the taking responsibility for your actions, huh? Who said that marriage needs to be reinvented? Mr. Paul . . . Do you think that God needs our help reinventing marriage? Absolutely not! Marriage is an institution ordained by GOD - not by man!!!)

My opinions:

Can you believe this article? It infuriates me. And unfortunately, this is how many people view marriage. It's nothing more than an agreement than can be broken at any time.

Now I'm not saying that divorce is not absolutely necessary sometimes. I am not against divorce per say. Sometimes divorce is unavoidable. Like for Tucker . . . he didn't want the divorce, Andi did. And it seemed that no matter what Tucker said or did, it wasn't going to change Andi's mind. Hear me: I'm against people going into the marriage intending divorce. Poor 'ole Tucker, he sounded shocked. Andi fully admits in the article that the divorce was not a result of anything that Tucker had done. So, he's an innocent victim of this "starter marriage" syndrome.

I feel sorry for Elisa and Andi. I hope that they have since comed to their senses. But unfortunately people . . . this is the world that we are living in . . . God help us, literally!

Romans 7:2
1 Corinthians 7:10

I know there's more . . . but I'm done now!

Wordless Wednesday

My wedding cake! Just about sums it up, huh!

For more Wordless Wednesdays, go here.

How I met my Prince Charming - Part IV

This is the last (sigh!) post in in a four part series. If you haven't read the previous posts and would like to, please click here, here and here.

It’s funny, when you’re dating in mid life, it’s completely different from dating in your teens. There are rules. Did you know this? Yes, many, many rules. Like, for example, to avoid seeming too eager, you should wait atleast 24 hours after the conclusion of the date before instigating any communication with said person on the date. Crazy, huh! I had several friends coaching me on common dating practices . . . interpreting Prince Charming’s every move. Seriously, it became exhausting. Why couldn’t we just do the note like in elementary school? Do you like me, check yes or no!

Another rule . . . he has up to two weeks to make some sort of contact with me. So, for two weeks, you sit around waiting wondering why it is taking him two weeks to contact you. And, if it takes him two weeks to make contact, is this indicative of how a relationship with him might be – only dating every two weeks or when he decides to contact me? Or, is he so not interested that he’s out looking and dating other women during those two weeks and then he forgets what I’m like, so he calls and asks me out on a date for a reminder? (Yes, I know, I have an overactive imagination!)

So, I’m guessing you’ve figured out (since y’all know that I’m currently married to Prince Charming) that he did call -- one day shy of two week deadline. Whew! Sure am glad ‘cause we just couldn’t date had he contacted me on week 2 day 1. Gimme a break! We dated a year before we took the plunge and tied the knot. We, like all couples, had some good and bad times, but we weathered the storms (literally) and came out stronger in the end. In September 2004, Hurricane Ivan decided to make landfall here in the Panhandle of Florida. The devastation we experienced was none like we had ever seen before. This event was such a turning point in our relationship. Prince Charming’s home was all but destroyed. It was a hard time for us both and we learned to lean on each other. I firmly believe that I was in love with him far before he was willing to open his heart to me. I think it was during this tough time that he realized I was the “real thing!” I was determined to be there by his side whether it was in a friend capacity or as more. From my first prayer, I submitted this relationship to Christ and he far surpassed my wants and my needs. My Prince Charming is a wonderful God fearing, Jesus loving man. Each day that we are together, we are learning more . . . about marriage, about each other, about parenting. I continually pray that we will learn how better to love each other and accept each other. We’ve come along way since that blind date in 2004.

To my Prince Charming, thank you for choosing me. And thank you for accepting me . . . the quirky me, the cranky me, the me that doesn’t always make sense. I do love you so much and am so proud of the husband, father, son, brother, friend that you are to us all.

How I met my Prince Charming - Part III

This is the third post in a series. To catch up, read here first and then here.

So, I'm sitting there, trying to answer his questions when I realize that I'm slurring a bit. I wondered, does he notice? I began to get that feeling of am I really opening my eyes as big as it feels? I'm wondering just how dilated are my pupils (you know, Sudafed does that!) And then thoughts run through my head . . . Should I explain myself? Should I tell him I'm hyped up on Sudafed and wine? And how I tried to avoid this date, but Robin MADE me come! Nnnaaahhh! It can't be that bad, right?

So, we ordered our food. He ordered an appetizer of raw oysters on the half shell (eewww!) and I ordered sushi rolls. And then he proceeded to ask me if I liked raw oysters. Under my breath . . . disgusting! How can anybody eat that stuff. It's slimy, gooey, kind of snot feeling . . . so I answer him with all honesty (ok, not all) and say that I occassionally have one or two (NEVER!NEVER!NEVER!). And here is why lying is not such a good thing . . . he slapped one of those oyster thingys on a cracker, topped it with tobasco sauce and handed it to me. Huh? What? I'm supposed to eat this thing? Eeeww! Eeeew! Eeeeww!!!! So, I collect myself - trying hard not to gag, and just decided to swallow that thing whole. Oh my gosh -- I almost barfed (barfed --- I love that word. Remember middle school!)

I'm not sure why I bothered to order sushi rolls. I was completely self conscious about my skills with chop sticks, so I really didn't eat much. What a waste of good sushi!

So, after about an hour or so, Robin and I excused ourselves to the bathroom for a little girl talk -- ya know - the mid date update! So, I commenced to telling her that I was wwwwaaaayyyy impressed. I asked her if she noticed the slurs and she said she did not. I looked at myself in the mirror and surprise - pupils were not as dilated as I thought! Whew! So, it looked as if everything was going well. So, with a big thumbs up, we returned to our seats at the table. We began a little small talk and mere moments later, Robin stands up with her husband and says something like . . . we need to get home, have early morning something 'er other, calling it a night. So, I stand up to gather my things, thinking this is the end of the date when all of the sudden Prince Charming chimes in and said that he completely understands and then he looked at me and said that he would very much like for me to stay and we could sit and talk for a while -- get to know each other. And also that he had been speaking with one of his friends who just happened to be to be at the local pizza joint and he was hoping that we could go over there and meet him. Wow! He's in love! He wants to marry me! I knew it!! Ok, so maybe I'm being a bit dramatic over here! But, I did take his comments as a good sign that things were going well. So, the boring part . . . we sat and talked . . . blah, blah, blah . . . skip this part . . . and then went to the pizza joint. We joined his friend, Phil and talked some more . . . blah! blah! blah! And then we made the preverbial mistake of bringing up politics and religion. Definite date killer, right? Well, Prince Charming's friend is a little (just a touch) more liberal than me (considering I'm not liberal at all -extremely conservative in case you're wondering. I know! Who would have thunk it!). I'm never quite sure of his actual stance on certain issues because he likes to play the "devil's advocate". Well, apparently, he chose this night to do the same. So, after I completely ripped his friend a new one on several issues such as abortion and gay marriage, I excused myself to the restroom.

Standing there, I thought well, you might as well call this date over. I was too passionate in the discussion and I've completely freaked him out. Man, why can't I control my tongue. Oh yes, we'll blame it on the Sudafed and wine (which, in all honesty, has probably worn off by now)

So, I returned to the two stunned guys at the table (actually, they didn't looked stuneed at all) and in short order, Prince Charming decided that it was getting late and he needed to get me back to my car. Oh no! The dreaded end of the date awkward moment . . . do we shake hands? do we hug? what about a small kiss on the cheek? is he going to lean in for a real kiss? and if he does, what do I do?

We drove back to my car in mostly ackward silence. He got out of the truck and came around and opened my door (what a gentleman!). I stepped away from the vehicle, he shut the door and then he began the good night speech. It went something like this . . .

Prince Charming: "Well, I had a great time. I'm so glad Robin introduced us. Maybe I could get your number and we could do this again sometime."

Me: "Absolutely. Here, I'll write my number down."

Prince Charming: "My schedule is pretty busy for the next couple of weeks. I've got training in Atlanta and a lot going on. So, I'm not sure I'll be in town. But, when I get back, I'll give you a call. Does that sound ok?"

Me: (does that sound ok . . .trying not to show a disappointed face because it really sounds as if he's giving me some kind of line . . . yeah, sure, you're gonna call --- NOT!) "Oh yes, that sounds fine!"

So, we hug, wish each other a good night and part ways.

Oh man, I can still feel that feeling I had when I climbed into my car. What a night of emotions! I went from not wanting to meet this guy, to thinking he was absolutely too good to be true, to thinking that I was a catch and he really thought this date was going well, to I'll probably never see him again. So, I did what any single Christian girl would do . . . I prayed.

Dear Lord, thank you so much for sending this guy into my life. Thank you for restoring my faith in your power and your plan. Lord, I'm not sure why this happened but, if it be your will, please let me see this rockin' gorgeous guy again (what? you don't think the Lord has a sense of humor?)Amen. Ok, maybe that wasn't the exact prayer - but it went something like that.
Tune in tomorrow for . . . Will he call? and Dating advice from friends.

To my friend and fellow blogger Megan at Fried Okra, thanks for reading and commenting. I really would have like to have told a more exciting story. If other readers want to know what I'm talking about, go to the comments section on "How I Met My Prince Charming Part II" and read her comment -- she's hilarious! Oh, and pop over to her blog if you get a chance.

How I met my Prince Charming - Part II

This post is the second in a series. To read the first post, click here.

So, the date was set. For two whole weeks, the anxiety of meeting some strange guy I'd never seen, much less spoken to, almost got the best of me.

The day of the date finally arrived. I was nervous, anxious, scared and to top it all off, feeling as if I was coming down with a sinus infection. So, I took myself a good 'ole helping of Sudafed and layed down nap. When I woke up from my nap, I was still feeling a little drowsy (Sudafed always does that to me.) I was tired, irritable, stuffy and thinking that I really wanted to cancel this date. So, I called Robin and asked if maybe I could cancel. I mean, after all, I didn't know this guy! It's not like I'm really standing up a friend or something. But, she responded with,

"Absolutely not! You get yourself up! You get dressed! And you get over to the restaurant! We'll be there when you get there. Oh, and Summer, I will come and get you if you don't show up!"

So, I thought about it. . . how bad can the date be? how long can this take? I'll just take another dose of Sudafed and hopefully I can cut out of the date early.

I got dressed and ready to go. I was wearing a black slinky shirt (I love black slinky things -- shirts, skirts, dresses, whatever!)with beige colored slacks (does anyone still call pants slacks?) and of course, some little strappy black sandals.

I arrived at the restaurant and sat down with my friends. He had not arrived yet, so Robin and I began to talk. I told her how nervous I was and how it had been so long since I had been on a real date. She suggested that I order a glass of wine to calm my nerves. So, I agreed and ordered a glass of Chardonnay (my fav!). I sipped, we talked. He called and said he would be arriving at the restaurant in about 5 minutes. My nervousness spiked. My heart began to race and it felt like my stomach was doing flip flops. I no longer sipped the wine, but decided to chug it (not very lady like, I know!) all the while forgetting that I had taken a dose of Sudafed just a couple of hours prior.

Sitting, nervously awaiting, I kept watching stranger after stranger enter the resturant.

Me: "Is that him?"

Robin: "No. Stop looking out there, he'll be here in a minute."

Her minute and his five felt like an eternity. Finally, she said,

Robin: "Don't look now, but he's walking through the door."

As he approached our table, I looked up and saw (no lie) the most handsome man I had ever seen. I literally thought that I was going to fall right off my seat. I could barely mutter my name--I was completely in awe of this fine specimen that stood there in front of me. As he greeted me and then the others at the table, I wondered if noticed my jaw dropping stare. I wanted to stop looking, but I couldn't. I began to think back to the picture in the email that Robin sent . . . was this guy in that picture? Surely not! I can't remember anyone in the picture looking that good! As I drifted back to reality, everyone at the table was engaged in a conversation. What were they talking about? I didn't have a clue. I was still in shock. He looked my way and began to speak to me. He asked me a question and it was, at about this point, I began to feel the effects of my Sudafed and wine mixture . . .


Come back tomorrow! You will not want to miss it!

How I met my Prince Charming

Well, with the encouragement of other bloggers (mostly Fried Okra), I've decided to tell y'all how I met my sweet husband.

It was December 2003. I was living it up at the Christmas party hosted by my employer. I was dressed in my fanciest, slinkiest little black dress. My coworker, Brenda, and I had decided that we would attend the party as each other's date. We were both sick of the whole dating scene and just wanted a night of fun! I absolutely HATED going on dates. And when I say HATED, I mean loathed! To me,dating was awkward . . .uncomfortable . . . stressful . . . you know what I'm talking about! So, she and I arrived at the party and had our picture taken together. We danced, we ate, we had a glass of wine . . . or two . . . maybe even three. It was so much fun. We talked with coworkers and friends and laughed at each other's stories. We made our rounds from table to table until we settled down at a pub table with my friend, Robin, her husband and two other coworkers. I absolutely adore Robin. To me, she seemed to "have it all together!" She's in her mid 40's (I think) but lived like she was in her 20's. She's hip, cute and fun! It's impossible to be around her and her husband without having a great time.

I sat down next to Robin and began to speak about life in general . . . how's life? how's work? you seeing anyone? why not? So, I began telling her how much I hated to date. This is how our conversation went:

Robin: "Are you seeing anyone?"

Me: "No. I hate dating!"

Robin: "You hate dating?"

Me: "Yes . . . I HHHAAATTTTEEE dating!"

Robin: "Well, I know someone that you need to meet. He's great . . ."

Me: cutting her off before she finishes "Absolutely not! No blind dates for me! Didn't you hear me, I hate dating!"

Robin: "But this guy is different. He has a lot of the same interests that you have, he's handsome and he's available. You want me to set you up?"

Me: "You do it and you die!"

Robin: "Well, how are you ever going to find someone if you don't date?"

Me: "Mr. Right will find me . . . trust me, he'll find me."

Next month, about the same time we had a similar conversation:

Robin: "Hey, you remember that guy I mentioned a month ago . . . well, he'll be back in town this month. How 'bout I set you guys up for dinner!"

Me: "Absolutely not! I told you before, I'm not interested!"

Robin: "He's a great guy - you REALLY need to meet him."

Me: "I'm sure he's a nice guy, but I'm not interested."

And again, the next month, approximately the same time (did I mention that she's very persistent):

Robin: "Hey, you remember that guy I keep mentioning that you need to meet -- well, he is in town and looking at purchasing a motorcycle. You like motorcycles, don't you? Perfect, huh? I'll set you two up for dinner and you can talk about motorcycles. And as an added bonus, I'm sending you a picture. There are five guys in the picture and he's one of them." (I think she said this all in one breath as to not give me time to cut her off again!)

Me: "Ok, wait a minute! Let me look at this picture. Ok, so which guy is he?"

Robin: "I'm not telling you! You'll just have to show up and find out. So are we on?"

Me: "Ok, if I agree to do this it will be on my terms. Rule #1: It's a group date with you and your husband. Rule #2: At no time will I be left alone with this guy. Rule #3: You must never ask me to do this blind date thing again!"

So, she agreed and set me up for this blind date.

Scenes from tomorrow's episode : Meeting Prince Charming for the first time, Sudafed and wine do not mix, What kind of impression did he make?