Last week was our last week in NC, and Clark decided we needed one last amazing date night to commemorate our time in NC. And, boy, did he go all out. That means, of course, I have to praise him publicly. On my site. I may be bragging just the slightest bit.

He hired the babysitter, made the reservations, and told me my dress code. Actually, he really picked out my outfit. It was adorable. I had no idea what he was up to.

In case you are unaware, Wester NC, specifically Asheville, is home to the largest historical house in the country, The Biltmore Estate. Follow the link for more information!

We've lived in the area for, well, about six years and had never been. One way or another we talked ourselves out of it or never justified so. Clark decided what better time of year to see the house than at Christmas time, with a candlelight dinner before, and all the joys of Christmas for atmosphere?

Yeah... the man did good.

I don't have a ton of pictures, and the ones I do have are all thanks to my phone. But just so you can get a glimpse at how blessed I am, they're below.

TWO DAYS TO GO!

I've had a hard time really putting this post together. Possibly because I am overwhelmed by how blessed I am when it comes to my little family.


My husband, Clark, continues to amaze me as he rises to new challenges. These challenges can be anything from a broken toilet to stress with his job. He always puts Michael and me first, and only stops to think of himself after he knows we are taken care of. It is his most admirable trait. He is our provider and caretaker, and I have no idea what we would do without him. I was blessed to find him at the ripe age of 18 and only continue to love him more each day.


We were blessed with Michael in 2011 and life has not been the same since. I don't know if Clark and I truly knew what the word "family" meant as a unit (when it came to us) until Michael came along. Now we are continually learning to put our little family first, everyone else second. Michael fueled that. He is our biggest joy, even on his "bad days", and I can't imagine where we would be or what we would be doing if we didn't have him.


These two together are my entire world. When Clark is home the smallest things are the most memorable to me, and sometimes I admit I like to sit back in the shadows and watch these two play... but not too long before I join in on the fun (as long as Michael lets me-- sometimes he'll tell me it's "Dada time", which I definitely don't want to intrude on). It doesn't matter if my kitchen is overflowing with dirty dishes or the blinds haven't been dusted. What matters is the quality time and love I get to experience with my boys.

What are you thankful for today?

As promised last month, Jenny is a prime example of someone keeping faith. She and her husband had a call directly from God, and it wasn't until they fully trusted Him that what they wanted to do with their life really decided to fall into place.

Please make sure when you're done reading to follow the link to her and her husband's page and donate to their amazing cause. They are able to continue their work by people supporting them, and after reading their story I can't see a better cause to support.

I won't keep you. Here's Jenny.


My husband and I are like any other married couple. We like to play board games and have date nights in, we like to go on walks and fish with our 5-year old puppy by our side, and we like to be around our friends and family for dinners and get togethers. Married for a year and a half, we are your average couple together and separate. I say this because the only thing different about our lives is how an extraordinary God uses our ordinary selves to do great things.

My husband and I are disaster relief missionaries. If you are like 99% of the people we tell that to, you are thinking, "That's not a thing." My answer to that is always the same: 'Take that up with God, because he called us to it."

On May 17th, 2013 my husband and I gave our lives completely and fully over to the Lord with just $100 in our bank account and not a cent in our savings. We had been on a three year planning stage, with the end result being hitting the mission field full time. We both had a heart for missions, and met doing relief work after Hurricane Katrina, but it was a relief trip to Nashville, Tennessee 3 years prior that sealed our fate.

It was there, after a month-long trip, in a church pew on Sunday that I looked over and saw my husband sitting down, head lowered as the band played around us and I knew that God was speaking to him. Afterwards he told me that he just felt God saying, "This is going to be your life."

Insert my type-A, planning mode self in here. I had a plan to get us out on the road full time by the next year. We would move back to Mississippi, where we met and where our home church was, get jobs and work our tail feathers off to save up the money to pay off our debt and have a nice soft savings plan to fall back on in case, ya know, God got busy or something.

God doesn't do back up plans, or big, cushy savings plans. So, try as we may for three years, we didn't get anywhere. God simply would not Bless it, because we weren't trusting Him.

When we would get a raise, the car would break. Get a tax refund, have a medical problem. As quick as it would come in, it would leave.

Defeated and dejected, we moved back to Maryland and finished the interior of my father-in-laws workshop in the back of his yard and made it into an efficiency apartment. We spent a month looking for jobs until finally Kurt landed a job at a car detail shop. Within just two weeks, they promoted him to manager.

That night we sat in the car in the driveway, looking at our unfinished workshop/home and finally uttered the words we both had been too afraid to say out loud. "Maybe we aren't meant to do this until we retire", thinking back to our trips where we were usually the youngest by a few decades or so.

God took our defeat and turned it around the very next day.

I was cleaning the house, all 200sq feet of it, with the weather on in the background, when a report of a tornado in Grandbury, Texas came across the television. I stood, broom in hand, and listened to the reports, wondering if our time to respond would ever come.

God spoke to me, for the first time in my life, in a voice I could feel not hear.

"Go, and go now." He said.

Hold up. We just moved to Maryland and my husband JUST got promoted to a decent wage. This was our chance to get ahead, save some money, get out of debt, etc... and you want us to give it up and go?

He didn't answer me but put someone on my heart, a dear friend who I met in Nashville on that fateful trip 3 years ago. We had kept in touch on Facebook, so I messaged her and told her what just happened, but then listed the 600 reasons why I could not just go.

She answered, quickly and simply.

"You always answer the call"

That's it. I sat down and prayed and told God that if he wanted us to make this work, it would be up to Him and Him alone. I was giving Him full control.

Kurt came home for lunch break, and I unloaded the news onto him. He sat quietly for a moment, slowly chewing his lunch and thinking.

"Okay" he said, "Let's do it"


Since that day, we have been completely sustained by God alone. When we run into a need, we pray about it. We fall fully into the arms of our creator and he blesses us in return.

We have been able to call many places home since that day. Moore, Oklahoma where an EF-5 tornado sliced through the tight knit town and left them broken. Black Forest, Colorado where a forest fire left the area nothing but pain and ash. Kingsport, Tennessee and Catawba County, North Carolina where flash flooding soiled the memories and fibers of people's homes. And most recently, Boulder County, Colorado where a massive flood changed a community forever.

In these times, we do as God commanded us. We love each person as He loved us first. We show them kindness and compassion as we help them salvage these homes and belongings. We tell them about the man who paid it all, so that they may know love.

Our lives are different in so many ways, but that is only because of the control we give God over it. We are proof that he uses average people for His glory and propels them to do things they never thought possible.

If you would like to follow our journey and see what God is doing in the wake of unimaginable disaster, follow us at Mortonmissions.com.

I've always been pretty awful at picking things out for Clark's stocking. Granted, Clark's super hard to shop for. One year I was so desperate I wrapped up a dozen pairs of socks in a box. I just didn't know what to get him!

I love stockings. Christmas morning it's the first thing we always did with the family, and it was just exciting. The first taste of what our Christmas morning was going to be like. If Mom wasn't done in the kitchen, we'd do stockings and then some breakfast (yummmmmy Cinnamon Rolls) and go back to presents. Just perfect.

So, stockings are a big deal to me. I've come up with the top ten stocking stuffers for men. Of course, if you don't have someone who's hard to shop for, then do what you do. But I think these are pretty much easy-staple-stocking-stuffers.

1. Favorite Cologne
I know this can fall under a perfect gift, not necessarily stocking stuffer. I just think it's nice for your hubby to get some smelly-goodness for Christmas. Plus, it gives you an opportunity to get his favorite cologne or your favorite smell. Sense of smell is one of the number one ties to memory... so if you feel like reminiscing to "older days", picking out a scent that reminds you of that is perfect.

2. "Beauty Products"
If you don't have a man who cares too much for his personal hygiene, this may not be the way to go. However, a nice face wash, hair gel, new razor and shaving cream, or something that makes your husband "feel pretty" is a nice thought. Attach a note to face wash, "So we can dance cheek-to-cheek", or his razor, "I love when your face is silky-smooth"... OK... cheesy... but I love cheesy.

3. Daily "Extras"
This means: phone case, wallet, money clip, key chain, gum, mints... things that he has with him on a regular basis or accessories to compliment them.

4. Trip down memory lane...
Miniature Army men, Swiss Army pocket knife, mini Nerf gun, race cars, cards, silly putty... things that will make him smile that he may have mentioned he loved as a kid.

5. Something Extra
Bottle opener, flask, mini bottles of his favorite drink, cigars, etc. A little something extra that he may not get on a regular basis, or something that he does that he may need more of.

6. Collector?
Perhaps your husband collects something (shot glasses, stamps, campaign buttons, ties, cufflinks)-- this is perfect. Never think it isn't thoughtful to add to his collection-- it is.

7. Socks, Boxers, Tees, oh my!
Like I said, I wrapped up a box of socks. I am not against slipping needs in with Christmas gifts. If your man has socks full of holes but refuses to part with them or get new ones (I speak from experience), slip some into that man's stocking! It could be a, "Haha very funny sweetie" moment or a, "I really did need some socks" type of deal!

8. Fast Food Gift Cards
If your man is working and always on the go, perhaps he'd enjoy a gift card to his favorite restaurant or coffee place. I would make a point to make Clark's lunch when he was working close to home, so getting fast food would really be a treat. Putting gift cards in there makes it easy and allows your man to feel spoiled!

9. Food
Favorite Candy, specialty sauce (mustard, salsa, spreads), beef jerky, sunflower seeds... this list could go on and on. You cannot tell me there isn't something that your man loves to munch on. Fill up his stocking with it!

10. Ooo-la-las
I don't think I need to completely elaborate on this one. Spice up your love life by giving him a sneak peak into something his future could hold, whether it be for you or for him. If there are prying eyes, use your imagination and make it suggestive rather than in-your-face-"ew"-gross-mommy-and-daddy-moment.

For more ideas check out The Life of Lulu Belle's list of 50 stocking stuffers for men!

Do you remember back in July when I asked the lovely Nikki over at Mrs. Healthy Ever After to be the Wife (to be) of the Month? Well now she's truly hitched! To add to it, I've asked her to write monthly (idealy) for me because, let's face it, she's pretty amazing.

Since I've been slacking on posts this past week or so, thanks to be Camera-less as well as being out of town, I thought I'd give you the treat of finally getting the most recent post Nikki wrote for me! So, without futer-a-do, here she is!


I grew up with independence always on the mind. I was always taught that I was in control, no guy could push me around, and I could do anything boys could do.
So imagine my surprise when I realized that my greatest honor as a wife was packing my husband’s lunch and doing laundry.

Say what? Ok…come on Mrs. 50s Housewife. What are you trying to say? Women have come too far to regress into the subservient doormats we once were.

It’s amazing how far we’ve come as a society. But it’s also amazing how much we’ve forgotten. Sure, it’s never okay to be a man’s slave. But believe me when I say, there is an amazing joy that can be found in serving your husband when it comes from the right place.

I honestly cannot take credit for this lesson. The month we got married, we joined a newlywed small group from our church led by a couple who has been married for 31 years (who claim that they are the 30 happiest years of their lives. Haha!).

We had a whole lesson on serving our spouse. The men were downstairs and the ladies were all huddled around the fireplace with cider upstairs. We had just spent a good while in a previous gathering talking about how awful it was trying to get our husbands to do the dishes. We laughed. We joked. We had a grand time.

I went into this particular lesson think, “PSSH! I got this. I do TONS of stuff for my husband. I already know how to serve him. Hopefully he picks up a few tips downstairs.”

But by the end of the discussion, I realized how wrong I was. Serving your spouse is more than just doing household chores. It’s a state of mind and a state of heart.

Our leader told a story about how she always hated doing laundry (because let’s get real, who actually likes doing laundry?). But when she visited a friend during a tragedy, her whole perspective changed. Her friend’s 18-year-old son had suddenly died. When she finally saw her, the mourning woman was sitting in a pile of her son’s dirty laundry, crying into it, trying to smell it and for the whole funeral weekend, she wore one of his shirts over her shoulder to dry her tears so she could salvage the last smells of her son.

This woman would never get to do her son’s laundry ever again. Not everyone gets to do their loved ones laundry anymore. It’s a sobering thing to think about.
It was from that moment on, my leader said she viewed laundry completely differently. Doing laundry for her family was a privilege that she won’t always have. And now, instead of begrudgingly doing it and folding the clothes, she decided to use that time to pray for her family and for her husband.

I was completely convicted by the idea of praying while doing household chores—and even by the idea of finding a way to do it with a joyful heart. I mean…who does the dishes while think, “Boy, I am SO happy to clean the house…again.”

But I gave it a try and an amazing thing happened. Changing my perspective actually made me love doing chores and things for my husband. Sure, I’d be lying if I said 100% of the time I’m like “Oh, yay! Vacuuming!” But finding joy in the mundane housework that I used to nag my husband about changed my entire demeanor. If I found myself slipping into the “#@%&” thoughts of a slightly angered woman, I tried to pray instead, or switch on positive music.

And the most amazing thing? It had an effect on my husband too.

Sure, guys don’t always notice the hard work we put into things all the time. But something happened to where my joyful efforts made my husband want to do more for me too. He started saying things like, “You work too hard” or “you do so much” and then try to surprise me by doing the dishes before I got home.

Forget the fact that I had definitely done the dishes before now. But instead of making it World War III in the Miller house by nagging him about the dishes or throwing it in his face that I had done it AGAIN, by just happily doing it myself, it made him want to do more for me and for our house.

The same came with making my husband’s lunch. Yes, I make my husband’s lunch like the mother of a third grader. I used to do it when we first got married because I thought it was cute and then it became a huge burden at one point and I’d holler at him to make sure he made his own lunch on some mornings when I was particularly rushed. Come to find out, if I don’t pack my husband’s lunch, he won’t eat for the whole day until dinner. Really? It would piss me off like you couldn’t believe.

But after trying to change my attitude about chores, I decided to give packing his lunch a second try. Because let’s be honest, making him a sandwich takes less than a minute. How can something like that be a burden? Throw in a few apples and maybe some crackers and you’re done. Where did I get the idea that I was too busy for that?

And as a result of a few minutes of my morning, my husband would have a reminder for midday that he was loved.

That simple act does so much for my marriage. My husband shows his appreciation more, we live more at peace and we’re just generally happier. Why? We’re not arguing over the things that “normal” people argue about. Instead, we work more at finding the joy within ourselves to serve each other instead of working extra hard to win points over who does more and who’s turn it is to do what.

Best lesson I ever learned. I’m not going to lie. It takes work. I still struggle with it from time to time, but it can be done and it makes a world of difference.

Do you find it hard to serve your husband with a happy heart?

As you may remember from Sorority Blues, I was having some difficulties with my sisters. Perhaps it wasn't their fault. After all, none of them were married. They didn't quite understand precisely what I was going through with Clark being away. However, a few of them were in long distance relationships. I had hoped, perhaps, they would step up and try to really get me out to do things. Sadly, I was mistaken (save for one sister, that is).

Well, at this time I was in a Literature Theory class where I met my now bosom friend, Becca. She and I started talking thanks to her fabulous Wicked bag (as in the musical), and hit it off from there. It just so happened that at this point in time, she was actually dropping from her sorority thanks to a lot of drama and ridiculousness. I shared my woes about how my sisters weren't being supportive about Clark being gone, and we then adopted each other.

Our spring formal was approaching, and it just so happened that it was on my birthday. Thanks to the "tapping" drama from the last function I was at with Clark, I had to stay at formal all night (or at least until Lady President told me I could leave). Well, I certainly didn't want to be stranded all night by my lonesome. Since Becca was dropping her sorority, and had mentioned already buying her own formal dress, I invited her as my date. Of course she said yes. From then on, we were pretty much inseparable.


I decided to have people meet at my house before the event (I forgot what we called this). Since I had to be there all night, I had to drive. Having a minivan meant that I pretty much always got assigned to drive people as it was. I decided, since it was my birthday, I would make cupcakes for everyone. Perhaps I was secretly hoping that they'd all sing to me. Well, much to my dismay, no one ate cupcakes before we had to go. In fact, very few people arrived even remotely early. They showed up and then we had to leave (we were assigned a time). One of my sisters, who was actually moving in with me over the summer and basically already living with me, bought me a sunflower (my favorite) and kept wishing me happy birthday, but no one else seemed to care.

When we all piled in the car, I asked Becca to direct for me off the directions I had printed out.

Let me lead with I am AWFUL at directions. Terrible. Truly. Thank goodness I married Clark, who seriously has a GPS in his head.

So, I asked Becca to direct. However, there was some confusion, and I took a wrong turn. One of my sisters was from the town, and was like, "Where are we going?"

I looked in the rear view mirror and said I was following the directions I printed off.

"Well, you're going the wrong way. You need to turn around. You could have just asked me, I am from here."

My van was jam packed (as in, there may have been one or two people extra) and they were all being loud and my feelings were hurt that no one had wished me a happy birthday or even partaken in the cupcakes I made, and I was stressed because I'm awful with directions but had thought that out and here I was going the wrong way anyway.

"Look," I said, "I'm just following the directions. If we don't come up on the road it says next, I'll turn around, but until then could you just let me drive?"

It may have been nastier than that. I am biased, after all.

She rolled her eyes, said something under her breath to her date, and let me be. Five minutes later, we turned around.

"So, now you're going to listen to me?" She just had to say.

"Well, we figured out what we missed on the directions. Next time why don't you drive."

When we finally got to formal (truly not that late), the sister who had been telling me where to go and whatnot ignored me the entire time. So, when we all sat down at a table, it was me, Becca, and most of the people who had been in the car with me (save the sunflower-sister), and they didn't talk to us at all. Seriously. I basically felt like I was an outcast imposing on formal. I was so mad.


Becca did her best to make the night worthwhile. I think we spent most of the night talking to the female bar tenders (although I wasn't drinking) than we did anyone else. If we weren't talking to them, we were dancing. Thank goodness Becca was super outgoing and loving, because I think I would have spent most of the time sulking at the table or in the bathroom if it wasn't for her.

When we left, we gave more people a ride. At least they had the courtesy to thank me and offer me gas money. Becca spent the night. We stayed up talking/watching a movie and divulging in the cupcakes I made.

My family and friends from afar did everything in their power (sent me flowers, presents, phone calls, etc.) to make up for the fact that Clark wasn't there, but they weren't either. I was so thankful to have one friend, who I wasn't even close to at that time, to really just take over and make my day amazing. Because, admittedly, I'm one of those people who wants a parade on their birthday. Becca definitely did her best to do all that and more for me, even if my "sisters" didn't.

Within all the madness that was going on (See This Means War, and This Means War pt. II to catch up), I had called my in-laws. Clark's father was in the Corps at this time, not to mention a somewhat high ranking officer. I called asking for help, and no one had been available.

Later I had an e-mail from Clark’s mother, one that made me out to be the one who was wrong. “The Marine Corps is different than the Army.” That’s one saying I will never stop hearing from those in the Marines. “We’re different.”

His mother had, in fact, spoken to Staff Sergeant and he had been “nothing but strawberry shortcake,” to quote her. This only added to my anger and battle attitude.

The night after talking to Clark and First Sergeant, I sat down and wrote two complaints: one against the Staff Sergeant, the other against the First Sergeant.

I pulled all the facts, used “military language” and was ready to fight it to the end. Luckily I had a father in the military, so he knew how the system worked. He told me exactly what to do, specific sayings to use, and to demand consequences be enforced. I felt like such a bad ass, excuse the saying. I was ready to show those men that the dependent could be just as tough as the one’s they were training. I was ready to show them that I was just as important as my husband, and they shouldn’t mess with me. Above all, they shouldn’t mess with women who know how the system works, because then they really get in to trouble.

After a lot of tweaking here and there from me, my mom, and my dad, I submitted my IG (Inspector General) complaint. I only submitted one for the two men, but since they overlapped it seemed necessary. I asked for two full written apologies. Though I never received them, I later found out that once that complaint went through- my husband was untouchable. He didn’t get in trouble, because they knew if they slipped again I would be there ready to burry them.

The next morning my phone rang at six o’clock. Not recognizing the number, I was slow to respond. It rang again, and I picked up.

“Good morning, beautiful.” I heard on the other line.

“Hi.” Give me a break, it was early.

“I’m calling you from Staff Sergeant's personal cell phone to let you know that we are at the post office over-nighting you the money. Staff Sergeant is being very generous letting me do this.”

“Oh, I bet he is.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, sweety, nothing else.”

“Ok, Staff Sergeant wishes to speak with you. I love you,” he said it robotically so I didn’t respond. I waited, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I would hear him. “I love you,” he repeated softly.

“I love you, too, baby.”

“I’ll write you soon.”

Staff Sergeant got on the phone. He gave me some explanation as to why the money hadn’t been sent out last night and blah blah blah. He asked if there was anything else I needed, and I smiled. “No, sir, that seems to be it for now.”

“Very well. Please let us know when you receive the money.”

This was before my complaint was sent in. Before he knew who he was messing with, and still I sensed it: fear. He was in trouble for lying to his superior, telling him he had spoken to me. He was in trouble for relaying personal information to next-of-kin of the recruit: Clark’s mother. He was in trouble, and it was all because of me, and I was so proud. Even before the complaint was sent in, before all was right and justified, he was scared. It was an amazing feeling.

I do understand their protocol. After all, there are wives out there who would empty the husband's bank account and leave them. There are girlfriend's out there who would want access to that money, possibly for the same reasons. There arem mothers, families, friends and acquaintances who would take advantage of the fact that the person was at bootcamp and the money was there, completely fair game. It's sad that's how things are these days. What I was so upset about was that they were treating me like a common day criminal. It felt as though it should have been a judgement call, but I guess Staff Sergeant or First Sergeant would have fallen if I had turned out to be one of "those" people. Seems to me, though, they took a fall anyway.

Clark's letters improved after that. He seemed to understand what was going on where I was, and that he needed to be on my side, not their side. After all, he had to come home to me-- they were only in his life for a 13 week period. While they may be shaping his golden career, I still had to come first in his life. It was a hard lesson to learn, especially at the ripe age of 20, but we never did anything the easy way.

When I returned from my beach trip, I was ready to butt heads with the Marine Corps.

I had that whole, long weekend to let everything seep in. The way the man on the other end of the phone had lied to me, talked down to me. The way Clark was saying he had no idea what was going on. How I had to ask his parents for help to pay rent. How they had all lied, portraying this glorious picture and in reality I was being treated like garbage.

I was ready.

So, we got back. I got back into the swing of things with school and my job, and then started on the war path again. I called the same number I had previously called. I told them I needed to speak to Clark's drill instructor, or Clark himself. I explained the situation again. Telling them that I was a full time student, and I did not work enough to meet our financial needs. I told them if they would not give me access to his new bank account, I needed a monthly check for our rent and major bills.

And I remembered to ask for the man's name on the other end of the phone when he said he'd have someone call me back. I told him I'd give him twenty-four hours before calling back again.

In a little under an hour, I got a call from Clark's drill instructor.

He asked a number of questions.

"What do you do?" I told him.

"Are you pregnant?" I wanted to return with something not very nice, but I said no.

"Is this an emergency?" Really, dude? I explained to him the same thing I had explained to everyone else.

"There's not much I can do for you, ma'am. You're going to have to get help from others. His recruiter should have explained that to you."

This is when I first lost it. I told him I was Clark's wife, not some girlfriend out to steal his money. I told him that I had every legal right to Clark's money, and was even going to bend and be fine with receiving a check. I told him that if I didn't get the money, I would be kicked out of our house and then he'd have that on his hands as well. I told him that we were informed that I would be able to receive some of Clark's finances, since I obviously needed them and they were rightfully mine. Then I threw in the fact that they weren't even giving Clark free access to his bank account, and I was pretty sure that was illegal (which was pushing it, but I was furious).

He told me there was really nothing he could do. He asked me how old I was, and then told me "nicely" that I needed to grow up. I told him I wanted to speak to Clark. He said no.

"Are you married, Staff Sergeant?" I asked him.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, wouldn't you want to help if your wife was going through this? Isn't it your job to provide for her? Wouldn't you want to comfort her, and find a solution?"

"I'll call you right back, ma'am."

Bingo.

I waited by the phone. I was trying to calm down. To give them, once again, the benefit of the doubt. My phone rang about thirty minutes later.

"Yes?"

"Emily?"

"Yes?"

"It's me." It took me a while to honestly figure out who "me" was. Once I did, I started crying.

"What's the problem?"

"They won't let me receive any of your money."

"I have finances here." He repeated. At this point I was figuring out that someone was standing there with him, and I was possibly on speaker phone.

"What are you, a robot?"

"No. I have things I have to pay for here."

"Well, you have things you need to pay for at home. Ya know, like our home. Our bills. Food for your wife."

"I know, Emi." First sign of real-Clark and not robot-Clark.

"So, tell your drill instructor and whoever else is standing there that you need to send money home because it doesn't grow on trees, as I'm sure they know, and our parents aren't a limitless bank, either."

"Not sure I can tell them that."

"I'm sure they heard me."

"I have to go. We were in the middle of [insert technical term for him training here]."

"I miss you."

"I know, baby. It will only be a little longer. I love you."

"I love you, too."

The line didn't disconnect. His drill instructor got back on the phone.

"I will call you back after I speak with my supervisor."

"No. I want to speak to your supervisor."

"I don't think...."

"I want to speak to your supervisor, [insert his last name here]. You've been no help, other than putting my husband on the phone, and we came to no solution."

"I'll see what I can do."

The line disconnected. I didn't get a phone call the next day, or the next.

Which, as you may guess, meant I was soon to call back. But not until I enlisted some more help.

It is hard to believe that Clark and I have been married for five years.

We definitely didn't take the easy route. After all, eloping to your local courthouse not even a month after starting school isn't exactly the traditional way of doing things. E-mailing your parents song lyrics (oh, yes we did) and explaining to them that you got married isn't the easiest (or most responsible) way to do things. Confronting all your friends, hurt feelings, nosey and idiotic questions, real-world-responsibilities, judgmental/ non-understanding strangers and family/friends isn't easy to do. Somehow, though, we survived, and continue to do more than just that.

If you read Married in College, then you should know how our story began. I feel so blessed to be at this stage of our life and to be doing what we do best: grow.

If getting married young has taught me anything, it's that in order to thrive, you must grow with your husband/wife. We have done a lot of growing up, and continue to do just that every single day-- mistakes and all.

Happy Anniversary to my best friend and the love of my life. Things may not always be easy, but the important thing is that we keep moving forward hand in hand. I am so blessed to have this life with you. Here's to many more anniversaries.

(2007)

(2008)

(2009)

(2010)

(2011)

(2012)

When the time came for Clark to leave for bootcamp, it was a bit surreal. The recruiter came and picked Clark up from our house, since Clark wasn't allowed to drive and it would have been rather a mess if I tried to take him. I'm sure there was more protocol to it than that, but I really don't remember.

I told Clark to text and call me as much as possible before they took his phone away. I told him to be smart, stay ahead of the game, and remember what was important. I told him not to let them brainwash him.... because that's what worried me the most.

Just like that, with a kiss and a hug, he was gone.

As I watched the car drive away, I burst into tears. I know, I know. It's not like he was deploying, but that's what it felt like to me. This was going to be the first span of time I had been away from him. It wasn't like I was going to Germany to visit my family and would see him in two weeks. He was going away, I was to receive letters, and that was it. I would see him at the end of June (basically July).

I moped around the house. I wasn't sure what to do.

We were told that Clark would get a phone call home when he arrived at Parris Island, South Carolina. I had heard from him very briefly up until he got on the bus and they took away his things. I was anxiously awaiting to hear his voice, no matter the hour.

Around 2am, my phone rang.

I answered. It was splotchy. All I heard was.

"...safely...time...thanks for your support."

Click.

Was that my phone call? It couldn't be... could it?

Why, yes, yes it was.

I learned later that Clark got to read from a script that was taped above the pay phone, and there was someone standing there to make sure he didn't say anything except what was on that sheet of paper.

Within a few days I got a sheet of paper from "Clark" with information about what he would be going through. It wasn't until a week or so later that I received my first letter from him.

In my first letter, I made sure to ask him about finances. After all, one of the reasons he honestly went was to make sure we had some sort of solid income, no matter how meager. We hadn't been informed just how much of that I would receive, or how I could have access to it, etc.

Clark informed me in his second or third letter I wouldn't have access to it. He informed me that they set up a bank account that he didn't even have the information to. Therefore, I would have to ask family for help until we could sort things out.

I. Was. LIVID.

I called Clark's recruiter. He said there was a number I could call with concerns and stuff, but he'd doubt I'd get anything out of it. (Yes, he actually said that to me.) So he gave me the number and I called.

The first time I called no one answered. The second time I called there was a button that said to press two if it was an emergency, so I pressed two. It connected me to 9-1-1... I was so embarrassed.

I called back and finally got an answer. I explained a shorter version of my problem to who answered the phone.

"My husband informed me in a letter that I won't be getting any money while he's away, and we didn't prepare for that. I need to speak to him or someone who can help me with this, because while I have a job, it's not enough to cover our expenses."

"Well, ma'am, he has expenses here, too."

"I understand that, but I'm his wife, and therefore I have a right to his money just like he has a right to mine. Could you let him call me, and he could share the information he has?"

"Certainly. We'll have him call you tonight." I should have known that was too easy.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Is there anything else?"

"Don't you need my information?"

"Oh, right."

I gave it to him. I should have taken his name. I should have been smarter than to believe they were just going to let Clark call me. I mean, it emphasized in all the information that all we'd get was letters. Still, I wanted to believe the man on the other end of the line was honorable.

I waited, and waited, and waited. I barely did anything that day without having my phone right by me. There was even a sorority function that one of my sister's convinced me to go to, and I was sitting there hugging my phone the entire time.

When Clark didn't call, I was such a mess. I didn't understand. The military I knew wasn't like this.

The next day the same sorority sister and her family were going to the beach for Easter break. They had invited me, and although I had to work that day, I had agreed to go. I got out of work, explaining what was going on and that I was feeling mentally up to it. Thankful for an amazing boss, they understood, and I left for the beach with my sister and hef family. She told me to just let it go until after the beach.

Little did I know it would be getting a lot worse before it got better.

As Clark prepared to head off to Boot Camp, things got a little tricky. Preparing for my spouse to be gone for thirteen weeks would be difficult alone, but taking into account that I really wouldn't have access to him for that long (communication wise) was definitely trying on my nerves.

I wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. I think we had about ten days, maybe it was a little longer than that, in between the time he told me when he was going, and when he was going.

Clark realized (a bit late) that he was going to be gone for my birthday. He decided he wanted to take me to the zoo as an early birthday trip. The problem was the only day we could go was a required sorority function. I don't remember at this point if it was a fundraiser, meeting, or what, but it was required.

Initially I did have to work that day. So I sent e-mails to the appropriate people and was excused from the event. However, I then got out of work. I may have neglected to tell the appropriate sorority people because I wanted to go to the zoo with my husband. If I had been extra sneaky, I could have withheld the information entirely. Oh, but Facebook. I mean, how could I resist posting pictures of going to the zoo?

(March 2009)

(Elephants are my absolute favorite.)

Sorority sisters got mad. Some didn't understand why I was excused to go to the zoo with my husband and they weren't excused for other things.

This was the first thing that started the "sorority blues."

Looking back, I totally understand why many of them were upset. I was excused from an event to go have fun, and shouldn't have been an exception-- even if my husband was shipping off to bootcamp for thirteen weeks. I still think it should have been somewhat understandable, but like with many other corporations and such, there can't be special circumstances all the time simply because of your marital status (or what have you).

Next was a mixer. I had volunteered to "tap" for this big party/dance/mixer because I didn't want to at formal. The only problem was, this was the last mixer before Clark left. Suddenly I didn't want to be required to stick around ALL night just to make sure other sisters didn't get out of control with their drinking. I wanted to be home, cuddling with the hubs. So, I went, I got the low-down of what I was supposed to do... and I left early.

Technically, I was never told I had to stay all night. Technically, I never signed the paper agreeing to "tap" at a function, or what it entailed. Technically, no one cared.

So, the next day I was called to meet our VP, which happened to be one of my semi-decent friends, and was handed a letter for "J-Board" (Judicial Board). AKA, I had to meet with the pres, vp, and someone else and explain myself and possibly face consequences.

To me, it was pretty laughable. Of course, I didn't tell them that. Sisters had been "J-Boarded" for much worse than leaving a party early.

Here's the thing, though. Other sisters were not happy. After all, I wasn't living up to my sorority duties. I was fully focused on my marriage and spending time with my husband before he left. I didn't care what the sorority expected of me, I only cared about my marriage. This should be somewhat understandable, right? Maybe. I do know it was somewhat immature, and that I should have tried to balance. But, honestly, what's more important? A sorority, or a marriage?

Marriage. Duh.

So, when I met with the "J-Board", I explained that I did have to initially work but then got out of it and went to the zoo, forgetting the duty to the sorority. When it came to "tapping", I stated that I didn't have any documents that told me what I was required to do, and I'm pretty sure I never signed one. However, I offered to "tap" at formal, since Clark wasn't going to be able to be there, anyway.

That seemed to work.

The thing that bugged me the most? Technically the "J-Board" was just for the tapping, but they brought up the zoo incident as well. On top of that, apparently a fellow sister had accused Clark of using a fake ID at one of the functions he was at.

I. Was. Livid.

Clark using a fake ID meant I could get kicked out. That's not what bothered me. What bothered me is that someone actually suggested that Clark did such a thing. More than once I considered demanding who said it, but I knew they wouldn't tell me... so it didn't matter. I just couldn't believe someone in the sorority would do such a thing.

And then I thought about how much I hadn't been doing with/for the sorority... and part of me believed it. I started wondering if the sorority really was the right place for me. After all, most of the girls were interested in three things:

1. Boys
2. Getting Drunk
3. Getting Drunk with Boys

I'm not saying that all sororities are like this, at all. Or that all the girls in that sorority were, either. There just really was no structure to our sorority, and we had a severe lack of adult supervision within the Greek system as it was at my college.

What I am saying, is that the sorority wasn't starting to look as glamorous as it did to begin with to this married-young-college-student. I was realizing that it was leading me farther away from things that were important (God, my marriage, school) and trying to get me to focus on other things instead.

In March 2009 Clark and I were facing some rough times. I had been in a sorority for about seven months. At the time I really didn't see what it was doing to our relationship. I was investing more and more into these girls and less and less into my marriage. I mean, let's face it. I was just about 20, a sophomore in college, and was really just starting to experience life. Most people at this age aren't married, or even close to it. I think the number one reason for that is maturity.

If you're going to get married young, you need to be prepared to really grow up with the person you marry.

I digress....

So, I was investing a lot of my time and energy into the sorority. Clark was competing for my attention. Whenever I gave it to him, sorority sisters complained. Whenever I gave them attention, Clark complained.

I was torn.

Clark was feeling useless. Here I was in school, and there he was trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his part of our life. He said he wanted to take online courses. He started. Then we met with a Marine Corps recruiter and he considered going active duty, then he backed out. We met with the OSO (Officer Selection Office... I think) and he started talking about the long-term plans. He liked that idea... for a while.

Clark was impatient. He wanted the change now. He wanted to be done with school, going to The Basic School, and all that jazz. He didn't want to take all the steps that lead to the ultimate goal-- he simply wanted the ultimate goal. He wanted to accomplish something. He wanted to BE something.

I clearly wasn't showing him at this time that he was someone, especially to me. Or, if and when I did, it just wasn't enough. Ahh to be 20 and married.

Well, in March Clark decided to go talk to a recruiter again. We had been over it and over it and I told him I'd support him. While we had talked through many options, I didn't see any other than him doing something that would make him feel successful. I realized that all my "success" in school was making him feel inferior. Marriage was about compromise, communication, and sacrifice, right? Well, I was willing to do whatever it took. I knew he was restless.

Before Clark went, we knew the OSO had ratted him out to his parents. He had talked to them about what he wanted to do, and how he was restless, and they had no answers other than everything would take time. That's clearly not what Clark wanted to hear. So, he went to talk to a recruiter about his options. His dad was calling me nonstop while he was away. I ignored the calls. One was around one in the morning. I was so angry. It was our decision after all. We were our own family. Even if we were making mistakes, they were our mistakes.

I knew that one way or another, Clark was going to join the Marine Corps. I just didn't know he was going to do it right then. When I got a phone call saying it was done, that he had signed the paper work, that he was going reserves, that he'd leave for boot camp (13 weeks straight of no communication other than letters) at the end of the month... I was furious.

Anyone who talked to me at that time, or around that time, will tell you I was a disaster. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was completely losing control of my marriage. That may sound crazy, and it may sound like we were just irresponsible kids who shouldn't have been married in the first place... but it wasn't either of those things.

It was another bump in our marriage, yes, and perhaps at the time I didn't know it was another time for God to carry me through, but it definitely was something that needed to happen to make us both stronger.

Clark came home late at night. I cried, yelled, cried, and yelled. I'm pretty sure at some point I may have thrown a thing or two as well. I just didn't know what to do.

In the end, we talked, we prayed, we called family. It was all we could do. Like with everything else, this was just the beginning of another adventure.

We're having to make some changes around our house. That means that my recipes to come will be a little more budget-friendly. Not to say that they haven't been in the past, but I'm going to be making it a goal to make them revolve around things that you should/could/would have just lying around the house on a regular basis. I mean, let's face it, not everyone always has heavy cream or buttermilk in their fridge, or any extract other than vanilla in their cupboard, or frozen lemonade concentrate (recipe to come) in their freezer.

While the ingredients may be more "ordinary", do not think I'm going to attempt to come up with anything but extraordinary recipes.

Why suddenly "blogging on a budget"? I've learned that if you don't have all the money in the world (or, at least, a lot of money), then odds are you shouldn't try and act like it. People focus on money WAY too much these days, even in the blogging community. If you don't have a lot of money, then you have to be a super-do-it-yourself type person to win the readers over. Sadly, I'm stuck in-between. However, I feel like there are plenty of people out there who are very much the same as me-- stuck in the middle, that is.

One thing we seem to struggle with when we start having to make budget cuts is healthy food/recipes. Let's face it, when you're eating on a budget it's so much easier to get the instant foods, like mac & cheese or SpaghettiO's, than it is to try to plan out your grocery list for as many recipes with as many fresh ingredients as possible for as little cash as you can spare. For some reason, it's cheaper to eat processed foods than it is to eat fresh foods. Shouldn't it be the opposite?

So... here I am... stuck between do-it-yourself-land and land-of-the-rich trying desperately to figure out what to do in order to survive.

Luckily, I have this blog to keep me "grounded". Where would I be if I didn't have The Newfangled Housewife? Giving in to that mac & cheese or SpaghettiO's, that's where.

If you have any recipes to share, tips for grocery shopping, or anything that you think may come in handy with my "blogging on a budget", please do share!