Tag Archives: wedding pictures

Love is All You Need

This morning  Lucy and I were solving the world’s problems from our post in the bedroom.  We had returned to bed for some cuddles after Em left for school.  “It’s been a few days since you posted. Mike Month is lagging…” MQD observed as he readied himself to leave for work.

I thought for a moment before I replied.  We’d had a sweet morning and I didn’t want my tendency towards smartassery to spoil the moment. “There is nothing more boring than a happily married woman.”

I’m at a loss.  I’d planned to wax poetically about our wedding all month, but I fear I will nauseate my devoted readers.  It seems the vulgar and the emotional scab picking are most appreciated (and I will refrain from pointing out what that says about you, you dirtballs.)  I’m not interested  in sharing the down and dirty of my marital life  and my marriage is too new to have scabs.

So here I sit.  Compelled to finish out my month of wedding anniversary celebration and yet there are only so many ways to say “Look!  Hot damn, I am a happy girl!!!” before it begins to fall flat.

“There is nothing more boring than a happily married woman,” I said.  “Even my father has noted that ye olde blog has been lackluster.”  I continued on, making excuses about how difficult it has been to write about my marriage this month, my self proclaimed “month long declaration of love.”

Without missing a beat MQD smirked and said “Your life is one long declaration of love.”  He looked down at Lucy wiggling away on the bed and said “It’s true. Your mommy spends all day telling everyone how much she loves them.”

He’s right.  I yelled “I love you!” out the front door enough times this morning at Emily while she waited for the bus that once she actually yelled back “I KNOW!”  I have told Lucy that I love her no fewer than a hundred times today.  It’s what I do.

I just don’t think you can tell a person that you love them too many times.  I also don’t think it is ever an inappropriate time for a quick game of ass-grab but that is another story entirely.  Rest assured that Mike Month may be lagging but it’s not for a lack of love.

Diamonds on the inside…

Some times when MQD and I climb in to bed and I can feel a distance between us I ask him a simple question.  “Tell me three things you love about me,” I will say, my voice cracks and I speak in to his chest because it embarrasses me to need to hear it out loud.

My asking the question sends the message “I need to feel closer to you right now, I am feeling far away, insecure, I am beating myself up over nothing.”

His answers always bring me back to what is real.  Sometimes the answers are humorous, sometimes they are sentimental, sometimes they are predictable but occasionally they take me by surprise.

“I love how sensitive you are.”  I won’t ever forget the night that was his first answer. I had always assumed that my hypersensitivity, my mid-day phone calls in tears because I “am so in love with you” or because I “am so lucky,” I thought these were things MQD tolerated, not something he loved about me.

What you see isn’t always what you get.  I don’t apologize anymore when what’s on the inside shows.   Neither should you.




“If you go home with somebody, and they don’t have books, don’t fuck ’em!”
― John Waters

We both have a lot of books.  Perhaps that explains the attraction.  I was so excited when we found the stacks of books centerpiece idea.  I couldn’t imagine getting married with stuff all over the place that was just stuff.  Or flowers. Books was a perfect solution.  I could finally picture a wedding that looked like our wedding.


I love this picture, taken moments after we were married.

I don’t know if a perfect union exists.  But I know that MQD and I are pretty damn close to perfect.  We balance one another out in a million ways.  Perhaps the most poignant of these ways is in the way we express our love for one another and in turn, the way we each need to be loved.

Underneath everything I think people are who they were as a little kid.  I am a little girl that wonders if people respect me as a person and see through pretty, little Kelly.  Mike is a boy that perhaps wonders if he is more than whip-smart. We are so different, the two of us. And yet, we are the same. Each of us a person that is confident in how we are perceived in one arena, maybe not so confident in another.

In this picture I see those two little kids.  I think that quiet boy is the dreamiest boy in the class, absolutely the cutest boy I’ve ever seen.  That boy is unimpressed with my showy confidence, instead admiring a strength and smarts I did not even know I posses.

I adore him.  And he respects me.  And you can see it all over our faces in this moment.

A father who loved…

I pick. I probe. I ask questions. In my first marriage I used to ask “Are we gonna be okay?” and later learned I should have been more specific. Early on with MQD I started asking specific questions.

“If I can’t get pregnant will you resent me?”

“Do you believe it’s possible to marry, raise a family and still be in love? Do you want that with me?”

“I won’t likely make the same kind of money you will and I want to raise my children, be at home as much as I can. I struggle with feeling like that makes me your equal. Do you think it does?”

But every so often there’s a question. One I don’t let pass my lips because I already know the answer.

The other night I was listening to MQD tucking Em in to bed. They were laughing. “Good night, sweetheart. I love you,” he said.

He was walking down the stairs and a question popped in to my head. He walked behind me as I sat in the rocking chair and he paused and looked down at Lucy. I could feel him smiling.

“Do you love Emily the same way you love Lucy?” Contrary to the way it might appear to some, I do occasionally bite my tongue. I didn’t ask him.

But once I’d formulated the question I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s ridiculous. It was a trap. I don’t love Lucy and Emily the same. Equally, sure. But not the same. And I’d never ask him if he loved them equally. The scientist in him would immediately answer that Love is not something that can be quantified.  There was no right answer.

And really his answer doesn’t matter. It’s a silly question. And one I know the answer to in the grand scheme of things.

I tell Emily all of the time that no matter what, even if I had a hundred more kids that always and forever it would be Emily that made me a mother. It secures her a special place in my heart.

Emily made MQD a father, too. It’s easy to see a father’s love with an infant in his arms. For that matter it is easy to love an infant. But MQD grew to love a three year old. Anyone who has ever spent time with a three year old knows that they are fickle beasts.

Emily made MQD a father. One day at a time. Slowly.

She started calling him Dad the day we were married. But he became a dad long before then.

Mike, I love the way you love your girls. All three of us.


Several nights ago MQD mentioned that while Emily might not actually be keeping score that he definitely was. Evidently I have not showered him with the love and appreciation he is due here on Excitement on the Side. I laughed and suggested that I write 31 posts about him in the month of May, the Baskin Robbins of Husbands, 31 flavors of Mike. Our wedding anniversary is today, April 30th, so perhaps it is an appropriate month to focus on my main squeeze, in spite of the fact that it is my month. Mother’s Day. My 36th birthday.

I enjoyed counting down the days to Christmas with our decorations. So, May…. I offer up 31 days devoted to my better half. To marital bliss. Brought to you with accompanying wedding pictures.

I’m kicking off Mike month a day early!!


More than a pretty face, he’s a snappy dresser, too

A lot has changed in the last year. Big stuff. A baby. A house. But by far the biggest change in the day to day has been Mike’s commitment to looking fine.

Note the time. We used to stay up late.

I fell in love with this boy. Perhaps you remember him. He wore camo pants and profane band tshirts. And he needed a hair cut. But he was mine. And I was crazy about him.

Was this some kind of Ridiculous Hair contest?

I really liked this guy with crazy hair and a goatee.  But holy shit, did I LOVE this guy with a fresh new haircut.

 And then sometime last spring he started wearing a shirt and tie to work everyday. His shopping for casual suits provided this super Easter gear. And Honeymoon Cruise attire galore.

Now shopping for Mike has become a hobby. He is always on the lookout for something. Bow ties. The perfect dress shirt. Saddle shoes. A belt. It is not uncommon while watching television with Mike to find him googling “casual men’s shoes” on his phone.

I was not the only girl falling for that long haired boy.

I watch more television now than I have in years. A nursing infant allows for that. Instead of getting myself sucked in to the daytime tv sinkhole I have been recording a few shows to fill the 30 minutes here and there I find myself in the rocking chair underneath a sleeping baby.

The talk show. There are more than enough to choose from. But I keep coming back to the same one.

Last week I kept seeing one sharp outfit after the next. Nothing revolutionary. Just a plaid shirt and a great sweater with corduroy elbow pads. Loosely tied tie and a really crisp white shirt, untucked with penny loafers. A cardigan sweater and khakis. The other night we were talking about the break of a man’s pant and I was saying that it is impossible to wear pants with no break without looking like you are waiting for a flood, but recently I saw it in an outfit and it was cute. Navy pant, polo shirt and saddle shoes, no socks. It worked. A glen plaid vest with a monochromatic shirt, tie and pant. Things I don’t think I’d think of wearing that come together beautifully. All classic pieces.

So, how do I bring it up? Honey, I love the look you’ve been developing. And I think I found a style icon for you. I swear, any outfit this person wore last week would have looked great on you. Give them a google, baby. It’s Ellen Degeneres.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart.  I love you more every day.  I couldn’t love you more if you were a lesbian talk show host.  











Baby Butt!! What ! What!

There are few times in the course of our lives as women that anyone says “Holy hell, look at the dimples on that butt!!  Love it!”  or “Oh man, I just love the chubby elbows!” And I for one think we should embrace it!

Last weekend I had the pleasure of a visit from a dear friend and our wedding photographer, Carrie Roen.  She has posted a sneak peek  at  a few of the images from her shoot and I am drooling over Miss Lucy Q’s adorable butt.  Someday Lucy will roll her eyes and say “Mom, someone told me that my butt is on the internet.  Is that true?”  And I will, of course, say “It damn well better not be, young lady!” and promptly delete this post.  But for now… Lemme introduce you to the young lady’s best side.

I can’t wait to see the rest of the images.  Carrie has an incredible talent for capturing moments that you would not believe if you’d not seen them yourself.  For example, as I sit here this morning, with toothpicks holding open my eyelids, I’d swear to you that Lucy does not actually EVER sleep.  But photgraphic evidence, kids. She does.  She will again.

When I was younger my dad used to say that I was a great kid…  “when you’re alseep.”  Not until I had kids of my own did I truly understand the majesty of a sleeping child.  You have the time to see them, to smell them (even if they do smell like old noodles!) and to just absorb them when they are at peace.  And quiet.  And not moving.  And quiet.

Shout out to Moonshine! And a stellar picture of Kellan's dad!


My other favorite moment in time that Carrie captured for me?  After MQD and I were wed.  After the toasts.  After the family portraits.  (And maybe after a wee bit of moonshine) she took MQD and I out in to the grass and we just walked.  We walked and we laughed and we talked and we had a few minutes to ourselves.  I have since told everyone I know that is about to get married to take these few minutes for themselves, you won’t get them back.  There has to be a more romantic way to describe it than as the “Holy shit we just got MARRIED” moments, but for me… that is what it was.

And either I was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, or I was pretty damn excited about what we’d just done.  Thanks, Carrie, for amazing pictures to help me remember some pretty special times in the last few years.  And thanks even more for a conversation in my kitchen at the beach so long ago.  I felt brave that day.  And you were part of it.