Tuesday, June 21, 2011

One of Two

There are two people that I can really be myself around.  Two in the whole ding dang world people!!!!  One would be TJ and the other...Corrie.

She is my very best, best, best friend.  I cannot describe the relationship we have, but it is rivaled by NO OTHER relationship I've ever had or will ever have. Her birthday was last week.  And about, oh, 5 years ago I wrote this little book of memories about us and never gave it to her.  I didn't want her to think I stalked her, but now I don't care if she thinks that.  Here they are.  They probably won't make sense to anyone but us, but maybe you'll catch a glimpse of what true best friends look like through these tiny memories that make up the happiest days of my life.

The George Strait concert where we won the big karaoke contest and met the man himself. I really think we could make it big someday.

Me, you, and Amber lying on your bed just talking waiting on our “gentlemen callers” after a short weekend in Tulsa with Emily. We looked through your clothes and I just loved that so much.

Riding bicycles around Norman.  My freakin' wrecking my bicycle on one of our night rides to OU and we just kept going.  By the time we got there, there was blood all the way down my leg.

Remember when TJ and Brent were playing tennis at OU and we were sitting on the sidelines talking and the bugs were eating us alive and we still just talked and talked and talked all night.

Remember when we were at Marble Slab and you knew it was Cheesecake and you wanted Sweet Cream. I love a girl who knows her ice cream flavors.

Remember when we went to the park and had a picnic when you first got Chapel and we ate chicken and potato wedges and talked to the lady with the fancy llasas who spoke with a British accent.

Remember when we went to Tarahumara’s to eat dinner and you told me you guys got the house and you said, “And God is working things out because we’re expecting a baby.” And we started crying and laughing. And it was good. And then we watched them make my chimichanga on the TV screen.

Remember when we went to Tonkawa to see Emily and she was talking about this great little diner and then took us to the E-Coli Cafe and it was so nasty and those girls were there and that guy and…boy, that was weird.

Oh, and remember when we were in line to graduate and those people asked you to take that group pic and your main squeeze, John McCain was coming through and their camera wouldn’t work and you were getting so mad. That was so funny for two reasons 1)because you were obviously wanting to quit, but the people didn’t care and 2) because you told me you wanted to walk up to him and said I love what you’ve done with so-and-so policy.” It was then that I knew you’re were going to rock whenever you get the dream job and you’re going to have someone come up to you one day and say “Mrs. Roberts, I love what you’ve done with so-and-so policy.”

Remember when we came over to you guys’ apartment (it was almost right after you got married) and we sat out on your little porch and talked about girlie things. And I thought, “I can’t believe I actually have a friend and that she’s this cool.” I learned a lot about you that night.

Remember then first night we came over and the electricity was out and you guys had like a jillion candles lit. I thought, “Geez, did we come over for a séance or something?” Not really. I actually thought “they must have gotten a lot of candles for wedding presents.”

You know how you never order the same things as others, even if you really want that? That cracks me up!

Remember when we realized that we’ve never gotten in a fight. Do you think it’s because we cherish this so much and know it’s just not natural.

Remember when TJ and I were going to New Mexico and you and Brent made us a care package and set it on our door step. That was so thoughtful.

Remember when I was texting you all the way from Santa Fe. I wanted you to come down there and get me.

Remember when your family invited me over for dinner. We were at the table and your dad looked at me and said, “Do you want the bread?” I said, “No.” Then he said, “Then wudda you lookin at?” I laugh, and am still laughing about that. I just think it’s so funny. I just love your dad.

I wish that I could be like your family. That my brothers and sisters would rather die than miss one choir performance or drive 45 minutes just to spend the day with my aunt and cousin. I just love that about you. I just do. I wish that for my family. And I’m glad you’ve extended that love to me. Thank you for that. If nothing else, thank you for that.

Remember when we would go to weight watchers, then go out to eat afterwards. You’re kidding me, right?

Remember when you guys moved to the house on Haddock and we were worried about not staying friends. Boy, that seems crazy now.

Oh, one of my favorites. We went to the doctor and heard Brendle’s heartbeat. I thought, “Wow, it’s so beautiful that I get to share in this moment. And that this baby has such a beautiful family to be born into.”

When we would go over to Brent’s apartment when he lived in the Charleston’s and would go in his room and all of us would just talk and laugh and giggle all night. I loved those times.

I remember the day after you and Brent’s first date when we met at Fazoli’s and talked about it. It was a great time. And we saw Jason and I thought, “Ha ha. I’m sharing this moment with her.”

Tuesdays with Corrie.

Having those special days when I would get on the bus and see you when we were poor and forced to ride public transportation to OU. It would actually change the rest of my day.

Remember when I saw Brent at OU and you had walked home in your cowboy boots and he had walked to OU to meet you. You guys had just been married like a month and were going to the State Fair. I just thought that was so great.

I remember coming to the hospital to see you after Brendle was born. I walked in and you said, “Don’t EVER let TJ touch you again!” You might have been too drugged to remember, but you just cried and I cried and I wanted to make everything better for you, but I couldn’t. Then you and your amazing husband actually allowed us to go and see your perfect little one in NICU. And I prayed, Jesus, I know Brendle’s going to be fine. She has the greatest family ever. I pray for Corrie. She needs your compassion. I learned so much about strength from watching you through those days.

Remember when I was too scared to ride a bike and you helped me. I know you just wanted to say, “Suck it up, you baby!” but you didn’t. Wow, I didn’t realize how great you were til just now.

Remember when we went on our first camping trip. That was so great. It’s never been rivaled and, unfortunately for us, probably never will be.

Remember when we went to Chelino’s for the first time in Bricktown, then we started going to all Mexican restaurants in the greater Oklahoma city area. I still think we could write a monthly (or even bi-weekly) newsletter.

Remember when you came to my apartment and told me you were getting married.

Remember when I told you I was getting married and we screamed through the church parking lot.

Remember when we went to the Cross Canadian Ragweed concert and were drinking lemonade and Suzy thought we were drinking a beer and you were pregnant. She left all our stuff completely alone in a huge crowd and stomped over to us and it was still just lemonade. Then we saw people with a crack pipe. Cross Canadian Ragweed- they’re rockers.

Remember all the mission trips.

Remember on our trip to Canada when the worst thing we did was wear flip flops when we weren’t supposed to and thought we were so bad.

Remember when I met you and told you my name is Jolene and you called me Jolene half the night. Ha, that was funny.

Oh, I remember the first lock-in at church and we were sitting by the kitchen and laughing so hard about your cows and how they would “dance” when the bus stopped to pick you up.

I love the fall festival. The witches brew and the scary movies. I remember the first one. I could barely sleep that night because those people on Wrong Turn. You’re the only one who can get me to watch scary movies. I know you go easy on me, but I still like to think of myself as a daredevil on the night of the fall festival.

For like two years, just you, me, and Brent would get together and watch The Grinch. That was our tradition. TJ’s lucky we ever let him in.

Remember when we made gingerbread men and decorated them like the four of us. We could be famous bakers, if we wanted to anyway.

We love ANTM! Remember when Shandi almost won. Remember when Lisa should have won? Yeah, I said it. Lisa got robbed.

My bachelorette party.

Your bachelorette party.

You know that song you sing with all the books in the Bible? That’s a good song.

Remember when we saw the Sober Boaters in Bricktown and we thought we’d found the next big thing.

(There were actually a ton more, but I didn't want to incriminate anyone!:)
Corrie, I love you with all my heart.  You have been, are, and will be one of the most special people in my life.

Thursday, June 9, 2011


When you move into a retirement village housing addition like ours, you never know what you're going to get as far as vegetation is concerned.  I mean, yes, you can see the trees, the rose bushes in the back, and the non existent grass, but you never really know what you're going to get... or not get.  And we quickly realized that our previous owners cared little about grass and that we had the worst looking yard in the entire neighborhood.  No joke.  But, we have been pleasantly surprised by some plants that have come up that we didn't even know were there.  They had a round flower bed of nothing in the big middle of nothing that just baffled us.  But come Spring beautiful Easter lilies in various shades or bright orange and black cherry bloomed.  We decided to move some of the bulbs and they have multiplied incredibly in the two years we've lived her.  I love seeing the green sprigs emerge from the ground and watch daily for the blooms, not really remembering which color we transplanted to where until they bloom again. 
Maybe the reason I root for those lilies so strongly each year is because I feel like we're kindred spirits.  When we moved into this house, I felt like that empty flower bed; sun-bleached chip mulch surrounded by nothing but cheap edging that was brittle and cracked.  To make things worse, there was NOTHING inside of any use.  Sure there were things deep down in me, desires I knew had once been there, but none of it was evident.  Honestly, I didn't even know if it had been real.  But slowly, green began to push itself out of the ground.  Against what I had even believed for myself, God began growing things in my heart that I really didn't think were possible.  Forgiveness, understanding.  Then when it was evident that there was, in fact, fruit, God transplanted me to a place where I could be taken care of, multiplied, and nourished.  I might have been dormant for a season, but I wasn't dead.  I wasn't useless, I was simply changing. 
One of my friends likened it to this- between the time a caterpillar builds its cocoon and when it emerges a butterfly, it looks like neither.  The transformation process isn't always what we think it is.  That's where I was- in the middle of the transformation.  And just like you can't just glue wings on a caterpillar and call it a butterfly, God couldn't have just added something else to my life without transforming what was already there into something new. 
Did it hurt? Yep, even sucked at times.  Did I probably make it last a lot longer than it needed to.  Almost certainly.  I'm as stubborn as a mule.  But I just have to believe that there can't be house renovations without a little demolition.  And I am definitely happier about the remodeled me than the one before.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Nothing Better...

Than your asking your daughter what she wants to thank Jesus for tonight and her blurting out two of her friends from church.  It melted our hearts.  And made me think maybe we're gonna get through these crazy toddler years after all.

Than your child calling her father "Daddio."

Than text chatting with two good friends in a day and being thankful for technology.

Than making it through the first night of Paci-caust 2011 without any tears whatsoever.

Than Adele's new album. Seriously.

Than weeding my mom's garden with her.

Than having a bow shooting contest with your fam and you being the WORST shot.

Than creating an impossible to-do list and checking off every single item in one day. That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Than homemade chocolate chip cookies warm from the oven.

Than just sitting in the yard and the sprinkler cooling the air around you.

Than summer time.

Monday, June 6, 2011


One of the few The only resolution I've really kept this year has been to read more.  I used to absolutely love reading,  but somewhere along the ripe age of 13 I realized that most kids my age didn't read for pleasure and I quit.  Quit, as in, don't even subsribe to magazines unless their gifted to me.  I've read the Hunger Games trilogy, The Help, Water for Elephants (I finished the Sunday after my Friday deadline and no one even slapped my hand) and I just finished up Something Borrowed.  Along with a Bible study book I read, a book study on handwriting curriculum and discipline strategies, I am freakin' proud of myself.  Seriously, that's probably more books than I've read the past 2 years combined in just 5 months.  But that is not the point of my story.
The point is that I'm easily influenced by media around me- people, music, magazines, and now books.  And not always in a good way, people.  Usually in a "I'm really missing out on life because I am/am not..."  A few weeks ago a person who has heard me sing several times asked me if I'm in a band or have ever recorded anything, even just for myself.  While I should have been happy she complimented me so kindly, immediately jealousy entered my heart and I started comparing myself to people I know and was so bummed that I'm just a teacher that sings.  STRIKE ONE!  All my friends are going on vacation this summer to some beach somewhere and I'm stuck her in Oklahoma or worse, Texas, with nothing to do by sit around and twiddle my thumbs.  I have no fun! STRIKE TWO!! But the worst case is with these darn books I'm reading.  The last two plots have been centered on affairs and cheating.  NO, I AM NOT CONFESSING TO CHEATING.  HEAVEN'S NO!  I'm just saying that immediately I begin to doubt that I'm pretty enough, that I've lost enough weight, that I'm fun enough, that I let TJ relax enough... Then my mind goes to I know TJ thinks I'm pretty, but I just want other guys to think I'm pretty too.  When I finally noticed what was going on with me, why I was so down on myself, I was so ashamed of just how easily influenced I am.  STRIKE THREE!!! YER OUT!!!
So what's a girl to do?  I refuse to start reading Christian romance novels, but I would like some fiction story lines with more wholesome ideas to cleanse my reading soul.  Anyone got anything?

Saturday, June 4, 2011


The Aragon Life is a blast, but let's just be honest- we are certainly not "live life on the edge, just waiting to get caught, party people."  Sometimes I hate that about us.  Even before Faith, we weren't thrill seekers.  It's just not us, as much I would like it to be sometimes.  Just this week I was talking with TJ about when Faith gets older and how will we handle her rebellious stages and what if she drinks or does drugs or sneaks out or worse or ---juuuuuuust breeeeeeathe lady---.
Today was confirmed in my heart that she is in fact an Aragon to the core of her little heart.   TJ was out working in the yard and I went out to talk to him for a minute.  When I came back in she was nowhere to be found.  I mean, our house isn't that big, but when your husband tells you horror stories of toddlers drowning in mop buckets, YOU ARE ALWAYS ON EDGE.  I started pacing around the house looking for her and then I hear her little devious giggle.  So she was fine, oh crap... what has she dumped out, ingested, or torn to shreds.  That's when I found her in the bathroom committing her crime- brushing her teeth!  With two brushes, the little rebel!  Ha!  She really thought she was something too.  When I rounded the corner and found her,  I had to laugh myself because she really thought she was being sneaky. 
On one hand, I pray she doesn't rebel against us or God, but I know it's inevitable that she'll rebel in some way.  On the other hand, I hope she has an adventurous side that takes her on journeys I've never had the guts to go on.  Backpack across Europe, go to a college she really desires to go to where she might not know a soul, follow her dreams past what is probable.  And I always pray that she will feel comfortable telling me and her daddy her hopes and dreams and that we can encourage them in a way that is honoring for everyone. 
But for now...