Guest Post: Dera: For Better, Worse, Sickness, Health, and Sink Full of Dirty Dishes

The next gal in the line up of guest bloggers is Dera from Casablanca.  If I could plan my own neighborhood (as in exactly who lived in it) Dera would definitely be one of my neighbors.  Our ridiculously cute children would play together while we had tea and gardened.  It would totally rock.  And, seriously, if you haven't checked out Dera's blog yet, you are missing something special.

Sweet Madeline was kind enough to ask me to be a guest writer while she goes on her wedding break.  I happily agreed, thought of at least a hundred personal funny wedding accounts (although you could click here for a good one) that I could choose from to use for my guest post, and then slowly began to forget each of these stories over the weeks to come OR they lost their humor the more I thought about them OR I became distracted by the numerous distractions that are so distracting that they can actually distract me from the first distraction.  Every time I'd sit at my computer at the end of the day, one of the following events would occur:

1. Terry (husband, web designer by day, movie-watching steam-blower by night) would kindly ask me to get off the computer so that he could (and I quote) "spend a fraction of the time with his wife as those ladies in the computer get of me".

2.  A child would come out of their bedroom, complaining that she had a nightmare, in need of a happy story.  (Something you don't know about my super special children?  They have the ability to enter REM only seconds after being put to bed!  Amazing, I know.)

3.  The current furniture arrangement of our living room looks directly into the dining room, which ultimately is the tunnel room into the kitchen.  Straight back to the kitchen sink to be exact.  If the dishes hadn't been finished by the time my butt was ready to plant itself onto the couch for the night, I would eventually be guilted into getting back into the kitchen each time I caught sight of the mountain of stinky pots in my sink.  (Note to self: rearrange the furniture.)

4.  I would find myself browsing around Terry's favorite online shops, in search of the perfect present for his upcoming birthday.

5.  I would read Madeline's blog, captured by a another Levi-hammer-bedtime-lovey anecdote (!!!), making me long for a little boy of my own.

6.  I'd download pictures from whatever backyard adventures me and my girls had that day, lovingly reminiscing the day's ordinary events as if we had gone to the moon and back.

7.  I'd fall comatose by the warmth of the laptop on my lap, the fire that was built for me in our little living room fireplace, and my couchmate, Terry.

So why am I telling you this?  This was not intended to be the happy funny super-fantastic wedding memory I wanted to bestow as a gift to the bride-to-be.  It's not just to justify my tardy post (although I hope it does), but to serve as a reminder of what this is.  THIS is life shared.  Life shared is busy and chaotic at times, but isn't that what it's all about?  What good is it if not shared with a handsome couchmate and cutest offspring this side of the Mississippi?  (And guuuurl, I've seen the pictures and he is one handsome couchmate.)  What better wishes can I give than that?

~Madeline, here's to nights of fewer blog posts and more mister.

Here's to the invisible vault of memories that you will be storing up as they get greater and sweeter and bigger, now that you're sharing them with mister.  Here's to life shared!

 (I'm virtually toasting you, as I cry virtual drunk tears of joy.  Love you!)