Anyone Else Ready For Fall?

Anyone Else Ready For Fall?

IMG_1825It’s the little things, y’all. It might be 100 degrees and I might be sweating my eyeballs out, but hints of fall are starting to peek out. Pumpkin-themed recipes are popping up on Pinterest, and today I found Honeycrisp Apple scented dish soap at Target. I am already planning a Saturday cooking spree so I can make big batches of roasted tomato and basil soup, verde chicken chili, and roasted potato and leek soup to stash in the freezer for after baby comes. I’ll never forget going over to my friend Heather’s house Labor Day weekend years ago. It was blistering hot outside, but she had her fall wreath hung and her pumpkin candle lit almost as if she were willing fall into existence. I’m taking her strategy this year. Next weekend, the pumpkin candles are coming out and pumpkin bread is going in the oven.

In the next three months, we will celebrate my 30th birthday, party it up s’mores style for Charlotte’s 2nd birthday, toast to nine years of marriage with my one and only, and welcome our third miracle into the world. So, yeah, you could say I’m more than a little excited about fall this year. Speaking of baby, we have done absolutely nothing for this sweet child (God bless third children) except choose a boy name and a girl name, and today I figured out a coming home outfit. The coming home outfit is a little trickier when you aren’t finding out the gender beforehand. With Lydia, we had two outfits and my sweet mother-in-law returned the boy one once we heard, “It’s a girl!” With Charlotte, I had a little white footie and the most adorable knit pumpkin hat. This morning, I found a little cream cable-knit playsuit on Zulily to go with the red and cream striped hat Lydia wore for Christmas pictures her first Christmas and a pair of cream booties a friend knitted that I found in our baby stuff. So, we might not have a car that holds three car seats yet, but at least baby has something to wear home! Priorities, right?!

The girls are as crazy and fun as ever. We are finishing up our second week of homeschool, and it’s been great so far. Lydia and I both love the Classical Conversations community we are a part of, and I can’t imagine doing this without others on the same journey. Charlotte is up to her usual antics, making us all laugh and wonder how we ever lived without her. She has a new fascination with elephants–Roll Tide–and loves sharing a room with her sister. Most nights when we go in to check on them, they are both asleep in Lydia’s bed–Lydia right up next to the edge about to fall off and Charlotte splayed out comfortably in the middle.

Matt and I are looking forward to a trip to Chattanooga in October to celebrate my 30th and our 9th anniversary. I’m hoping for gorgeous leaves and crisp temperatures! If you have any food or excursion recommendations, please share. Heather has already told me The Bread Basket is a must! And, of course, Alabama football starts in nine days, which means my blood pressure for the next four months will be a bit higher than normal and Papaw’s houndstooth hat will resume its Saturday location on the mantel.

So, it might be scorching hot outside, but this girl is dreaming of pumpkin spice lattes and honeycrisp apples, fuzzy socks and tiny knit booties, and all the excitement this fall holds.

 

 

My #1

My #1

elissa and mattA few weeks ago after my Saturday run, I came around the sidewalk curve heading into our cove. I was exhausted and disgustingly sweaty because August in Memphis means heat and humidity to the nth degree. In my training for the marathon, I was at the half-way point in distance having just finished 13.1 miles. And as I rounded the corner, I saw my girls, one with her pink princess night gown and some awesome bed head and the other with legs flapping out of sheer excitement. And holding the little one was my husband, my best friend and my #1 fan. He had a pom pom (my big girl did too, of course) waving it wildly in the air. The moment I locked eyes with him, tears welled up.

It was such a literal representation of the way he cheers me on every day, a memory I’ll treasure forever. This morning during my run, I was listening to the podcast of last week’s episode of the Andy Savage Show. As we ended the show, Andy challenged listeners to not let anyone speak more highly of your spouse than you. Not the people at the office, not the people at the gym, not the barista whipping up espressos. No one should speak more highly of Matt than me. This is why it matters that I listen when he tells me about the new client. This is why it matters that I notice how hard he’s been working. This is why it matters that I tell him how good he looks. This is why I kiss him as he walks out the door in the morning and again when he comes in the door every evening.

Matt and I know a little something about fair-weather fans versus real fans. While it’s fun to be a Bama fan now after three national championships in four years (Roll Tide!) this was not the case when we were in school. Real fans are the ones who sit through five overtimes during the Tennessee/Bama game while it is raining cats and dogs (or Smokeys and Elephants)  only to wind up losing the game. Real fans wear crimson and white and anything houndstooth even when you lose to a Div II school. Real fans leave the stadium hoarse no matter what the scoreboard reads.

Being my husband’s biggest fan means encouraging him no matter what. When the preacher said for better or worse, he meant it. It’s easy to tell ourselves, “I’ll encourage him as soon as he encourages me.” Whenever I’m tempted to fall into this trap, I think back to Romans 5:8, “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” God didn’t wait until we were lovable to love us. He didn’t wait until I got my act together to rescue me.  I’m called to love my husband in the same way. I don’t cheer for him because he’s perfect. I cheer for him because he’s my favorite. Because he’s my team. And because I love him.

A short text, a little note in his work bag, cooking his favorite meal for dinner… it doesn’t have to be big. But sometimes the little things, like coming around the corner to your own personal cheering section, leave the biggest impression.