Say What?

This blog has not quite been what I've imagined it would be. I thought I would keep my family and friends posted on our wildly exciting and entertaining lives as newlyweds (and possibly entertain hapless strangers who stumble upon this website) at least on a weekly basis, maybe even more frequently. I also thought it would serve as a digital diary for us and our future clan of 2-8 children (that is either two-point-eight or two-to-eight, depending on who you ask).

Instead, it's been a proverbial catch-all bib (you know, the rubber ones with the little pocket scoop on the bottom) for my random life-update, recipe-detailing, run-documenting, story-telling and opinion-sharing vomit. The word-spewage has been much like a stomach bug -- unpredictable, My posts have ranged in frequency from once every four months to several within a few days' time. The blog is far less painful and unpleasant than a stomach bug, although it has felt like an unwelcome burden at times. It is, albeit, a burden I signed up for. But it's kind of like that yellow curry that at the time sounded like it would be great followed by chocolate ice cream and and wine and the Boy Scout brand cheesey popcorn... not so much.

Really, I like blogging, but I'm infrequent. There have been lots of adventures over the past two years I'd have liked to chronicle, old stories I'd like to tell, delicious recipes, home improvement projects and running progress I'd like to share and deep thoughts I'd like to bestow. I have lots of great ideas, but I simply lack time. Blogging goes to the bottom of the to-do list after a full day of writing for my magazine at work.

I vacillate between backtracking and logging all the vacations, dates, milestones and STUFF (possibly in private posts, to spare you the horror) or just starting fresh and doing better from this point on. But I've recently reached a LONG OVERDUE epiphany that needs to be sorted out before I can commit to anything, or even move off of this couch, really. Good thing I poured a very full glass of wine

My epiphany is: I cannot be a full-time journalist, ride horses, train for a marathon, keep an organic vegetable garden, maintain a blog, landscape our house, make a quilt, cook new recipes, do yoga, clean house like a German maniac, train a gun dog and remodel our house all a the same time. I canNOT do it all, and I feel like the little girl who's meanie-butt parents are forcing her to choose EITHER ballet or horseback riding, but NOT both. How rude!

As I ponder my life's course through a minefield of hobbies, I leave you with some profound images.

Yes, that is a fever blister that looks like a soul patch.

About to get creamed in dodge ball.



My Periodic Table of Elements shirt, signed by Bill Nye the Science Guy.
Radioactive elements glow in the dark. Duh.

Eldorado: The Place to Be!

I would like to tell you more about the West Texas town of Eldorado, where Tanner was born and raised.


Let’s start with the facts. Eldorado is the county seat of Schleicher County. Eldorado is the only town in Schleicher County. Eldorado is the best town in Schleicher County! Boo-ya!

The town sits at the top of the Edwards plateau (Welcome to Eldorado: Top of the Divide Elevation 2,439!), and it’s surrounded by plenty of beautiful West Texas landscape -- and deer, lots of 'em. The proof is in the bar ditch, on the side of the road, in the middle of the road and on grill guards, in bits and pieces. The proof is also in the hunters who flock there during deer season.

About 1,800 people live in Eldorado. For comparison, my high school in Katy, Texas, has about 1,100 students in each graduating class. But size is not everything. It’s about personality! Or maybe I should say it's about THE personalities. A large part of what makes Eldorado great are the people.

Tanner (left) with Matt, Ross and Andrew

Most of Tanner's childhood friends are still his closest and most loyal friends today. Built on a foundation of shared experiences, faith, heart-to-hearts and plenty of mudding, hunting, bbq-ing, road trips and farting competitions, those friendships that have survived going off to different colleges, getting married, having babies and settling down in various big cities and small towns are priceless. Relationships like those are one of life's greatest treasures, and for Tanner, those treasures began and grew in his home town.

Eldorado Eagles - Class of 2002!

Eldorado was small and safe, so boys could be wild, adventurous and out on their own without parents worrying. It was remote and and surrounded by rugged, beautiful country, so it was the perfect place for hunting, off-road excursions, swimming-hole trips, and camping. It was tight-knit, a real community, so that your friends' parents simply became your second parents, letting you sleepover and raid their pantry, carting you around and cheering you on at games (or complimenting the "interesting" things you made in welding class, in Tanner's and Jason's cases).

Scott (left), Andrew and Tanner head off on a road trip

Growing up in Eldorado was like growing up surrounded by your extended family. It's an extended family that celebrates with you or takes care of you when your struggling. It's a family that follows you even when you leave Eldorado. It's a family welcomes your wives, husbands and children with open arms.

One big family

I love Eldorado because it had a huge part in making Tanner who he is, and I love who he is! Outdoorsy, country, adventurous, fearless, mechanical, tough, fiercely loyal, loving, hard working and with a great sense of humor and passion for life!

I love Eldorado because Tanner's friends became such an important part of my life. My best friend, Summer, introduced me to Tanner after she began dating Andrew, one of Tanner's best Eldo buds. Summer and Andrew got married two years before us, are expecting a baby, and despite the fact that they live in Colorado and we don't see them as often as we'd like, Tanner and I could probably say there are few people on earth we feel closer to. Andrew's mom, Liz, also helped me plan my wedding, and his dad, Andy, married me and Tanner.

Tanner and I with Andrew and Summer

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. It doesn't end there or anywhere near it! Tanner lived with Andrew, Jason, Thomas and Scott all through college. The stories of Jason and Tanner together as little boys are hilarious, and those two are so alike, it's scary. Jason and Tanner have inhaled welding fumes side-by-side for years, and now they work side-by-side in the oilfield at the same company! Jason and his wife, Susannah, are two of our go-to people in Weatherford for everything from a fun night out to "Can you please feed the horses?" And we know we even could on Jason's parent's, who live close by, for a favor anytime if needed to.

Then

And now

Although Thomas passed away in 2005, I feel like he is with us both everyday. I can't imagine my life without his family, the Ballew family, in it, and I love popping over to see Ray and Debbie -- and which ever kiddo happens to be in town -- most every time we go to Eldo.

Andrea, Tanner and Thomas in college

With Debbie and Ray at my bridal shower, hosted by the First Presbyterian Church

I could go on an on. From Wesley and Matt meeting us out at the River House whenever we're in New Braunfels to catching up with Jeff and his beautiful new wife, Lori, at Summer's baby shower in Katy to random visits from Tana or facebook-ing with Hallie, the people of this lil' West Texas town have become such a part of my heart.

But that's all from my perspective. And this is supposed to be a newlywed blog. Contrary to how it may appear at times, I am in fact not married to myself. Ha! I have heard COUNTLESS Eldo memories, recollections, tall tales and highly entertaining stories from Tanner over the six years we have been together. On a recent road trip to none other than Eldorado, I got Tanner started on the subject of home sweet home, then pulled out my laptop and transcribed as he talked. I've done it a few time since then, and I'm putting together a nice compilation of Eldorado stories and childhood memories that I plan to share on my our blog.

Be prepared! And keep an eye out for Ye Old Eldorado Stories, because they're good... and the pictures, they're even better!

Wild Night

It all began innocently enough. I was taking a casserole and some other things over to a friend's house. The casserole was Mexican Lasagna 2.0. Mexican Lasagna 1.0, an aberration in my carefully balanced ecosystem of procrastination, was sitting happily in the refrigerator back in Eldorado, which I only realized once I was on the road and about two hours outside of Eldorado.

"No problem!" my laid-back, level-headed, don't-sweat-the-small-stuff, keeping-it-all-in-perspective self cheerfully thought -– right after I broke into dramatic, heaving sobs and called Tanner on his cell phone to break the awful news of my terrible predicament.

Anyway, who cares how I got there. The important part is I eventually arrived at, "No problem!" and continued my trip home. I would simply make another casserole that evening and deliver it promptly at 8:30 p.m. as planned.

The rest of the drive home was uneventful, except for the unwelcome onslaught of PPP -- premature pee problem. Why is it that the body decides it reeeeeally need to go to the bathroom about 30 minutes from your destination? You're sooo close. Close enough so that going to the bathroom seems like an epic pain in the butt, a pesky pimple rearing its ugly head 30 minutes before it's time to leave for prom. But you're also far enough away from home to where there is a legitimate threat of going in your pants. To further complicate matters, I have such a guilty conscious that I can't use a convenience store restroom without purchasing something, and at 30 minutes from my stocked, albeit mouse-infested (a story for another day), pantry at home, buying anything seems like a waste of money.

Aaaanyway, lest I digress, I made it to my office in the late afternoon without wetting myself, rushed to the grocery store after work, skiddadled home, made the casserole, and headed out to deliver. After forcing my friend to stay on the phone for ten minutes and give me inch-by-inch directions, I arrived with my goods. I filled my arms and headed into the house, expecting to drop everything off, chat for a bit and then hit the road. After all, I had to get back home and pack for my work trip to Oklahoma the next morning. Well, we got into some great conversation, time flew, and it was after 10 p.m. before I made it back to the truck. I grabbed my phone from the console and saw a text message from Tanner, who was back in Eldorado and asking about medication for the dogs.

"Oh, I'll just give him a ring!" I thought. "I miss him; I want to hear his voice; and my clumsy nubs can't tpye on my iPhone, aywnay."

Ring. Ring. The call connects.

Tanner: "WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN? WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT'S GOING ON? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WHAT!!!!???"

Erin: "Uhhhhh. Hello?"

Turns out, while I was in lala land without my cellphone, an armed burglary occurred across the pasture from our house. Helicopters with search lights were swooping and criss-crossing over our little country road and the pastures around our house and our neighbors' houses. Our neighbors and close friends, Molly and Rob, had called Tanner. Rob's dad, Glen, is our town's constable. He lives next to Molly and Rob and two places down from us. They had heard on the scanner that the suspect was armed, dangerous and on the run. They knew I was home alone, but saw that my truck was gone and all the lights were out.

Long story short, an epic phone chain ensued. Molly called me several times. No luck. Then Molly called Tanner, who called me 2 million times and couldn't get a hold of me. Tanner called a guy to get the number of the friend I was visiting. That guy didn't have the number, but he had the number of a girl who did. Tanner called that girl. She gave him the number and then she also tried to call me a few times. Tanner called the friend I was visiting, but my friend didn't recognize the number. I saw him pick at his ringing phone several times with a puzzled look, then put it down. Tanner left him a couple frantic voicemails, then waited it out.

After two hours of this, I had 4 million missed calls, 3.5 million text messages and a very worried husband. Oops. Well the suspect was still on the run by the time I finally returned to earth, so I decided to go stay with Molly and Rob, who offered me a room for the night. But of course, I needed my toiletries from my house. I had to get up bright and early and catch a ride with Molly to Fort Worth in order to pick up my company truck. No time to dilly dally the next morning. But of course I left my back door unlocked and all my lights off when I went on my errand. Which meant, of course, the constable and his deputy had to search the house before Molly and I went over, just in case the robber had holed up there. Of course, I had left the kitchen dirty and the BRAVO channel on TV and was irrationally paranoid that something horrific like the Real Housewives of Orange County would be blaring at full volume. (For the record, that is NOT what I was watching when I left the house.)

The house, hay shed and Tanner's shop all got a legit search with flashlights and guns drawn as Molly and I waited in the truck. When I heard the deputy report over the scanner that they were searching the house of "lady on such and such Lane who left her door unlocked," I felt an odd mixture of embarrassment for taking up the police's time, gratitude for having the constable as a friend and neighbor, amazement that I was in a police SUV and relief that he didn't mention anything about the dirty pans on the stove, trashy TV blaring in the living room and mice infestation in the pantry.

Despite the hectic chain of events, I got my belongings from my house, and everything ended peacefully around midnight with me settling down to sleep in the borrowed bedroom of Molly's and Rob's 5-year-old son. As I dozed off in a shrine to Thomas the Train, I found myself thinking how nice it was to realize how much Tanner cares about me. Next time, though, I'll orchestrate an easier situation through which he can show his affection.

Sweet Stace

I am so blessed to have not only a great mother who birthed me and raised me and filled me up with so much love it spewed out my ears, but also a wonderful mother-in-law who did all those things for my husband and welcomed me into her family like one of her own.

Me and Stacy at my bridal shower

On Mother's Day weekend, Tanner and I went to Eldorado to spend Mother’s Day with Tanner’s mom, Stacy, as well as his dad, Mike, sister, Mindy, and her husband, Tye. Let me tell you something about Eldorado: There is not much to do there. Let me tell you why that is awesome. We end up doing things like piling in bed with Stacy and just talking. We paint each other’s nails, talk about decorating and fashion and do hair (girls only!). We clean gutters, rebuild porch swings and trim trees together (boys only!). We make an event out of going to church. We sit on the porch and chat and pet the cat.

That is, until Tanner gets the cat so riled up that it’s attacking everyone. Nothing makes me laugh and fill with fear at the same time like that crazy look cats get – when they flatten their ears to the side and bug their eyes – right before they jump and wrap their front legs around your tender foot and bite the heck out of your big toe.

Now let me tell you something about Stacy. She’s one heck of a woman. Tanner and his Eldorado crew lovingly dubbed her “Sweet Stace” back in the day. She’s tender and nurturing. She smiles, all the time. She takes time to compliment everyone. She writes thoughtful notes. She sends gift cards and pocket money for no special occasion, just because. She calls for no special reason, just to catch up. She asks thoughtful questions. She listens. She cares – about everyone. She never speaks a bad word about anyone.

Tanner and Stacy at our wedding

She’s also one tough cookie. She brought two children into this world – with no medication! – and is there for them every moment of every day. She faithfully supported and carried her family through trials and struggles without complaint. She made a small house, in the early years, a home, and guided four people to peacefully coexist while all sharing one bathroom. A-ma-zing. She works full time, then in her spare time, she helps with the bible study at the church, volunteers with Lions Club and helps several people manage their rental properties, businesses and finances. Despite this busy schedule, every person she runs across feels like they have her undivided attention.

Stacys also got faith, and God gave her an extra helping. No matter the circumstance, she does not worry or doubt. She is a rock, but a tender one. During the passing of family members, Stacy is the one who comforts everyone. When someone is sick, Stacy cares for them, and she takes care of the things no one else can. She prays for her family, reads her Bible and lives out her faith in ways great and small. She will be the first one to tell you she’s not perfect. No one is; we all know that. But she’s about as close as it gets!

Every day for Stacy should be Mother’s Day. Unfortunately, we don’t always take the time to tell her how much we love her, so that weekend was a great opportunity to do just that! And we loved every minute of it.

Tanner and Mindy with Stacy on Mother's Day 2011!

This last weekend, Tanner and I had another chance to celebrate another woman who’s conquered the world and more, my mom! We visited my parents, enjoyed the River Haus and had another Mother’s Day! More to come...

Runner's Knee

Last Sunday, Tanner dropped my off at the trail head in Weatherford. I was nervous. First of all, because I had decided to wear only a sports bra -- no tank top or T-shirt -- and was worried about my hate love handles bouncin' around and acting a fool. And they did. I watched them as my shadow ran in front of me.

The second reason I was nervous was because I had eaten chicken wings and drank a beer the night before with Andrew and Jenna at Buffalo Wild Wings. My stomach does not like chicken wings and beer. My love handles, however, they need them to survive.

The third reason was because after Tanner dropped me off, I was committed to the task before me: running 10.6 miles of wooded trail from Weatherford to Garner. Get a chicken-wing-induced, three alarm stomach flip flop? Too bad. Get attacked by a wild turkey? So sad. Break both your legs, fracture your arms, get a nosebleed and pop your eyeballs out? Oh well. No cell phone. Deal with it. Finish strong!

Well, I did finish. The first four miles of the trail were fairly busy, much to my chagrin. My overly excited love handles, just happy to be out and about, were wigglin' and jigglin' and waving "Hi, y'all!" to everyone they passed. After Mile 4, the crowd started to thin out.

I had my earphones in and my audiobook playing. It was a beautiful, sunny day. (I have the sports bra tan to prove it!) Reaching Mile 5 was a little bit of a bonk moment, only because it hit me that I was less than half way to my destination. But I knew in reality I could make it at least 8 miles, so I got over it.

At about mile 8, I was lectured by a cute, old cyclist man that Tanner and I have seen frequently on the trail about how I should have brought water with me. He pretty much insisted/forced me to drink some of his water, which ended up really being a nice treat for me because I was super thirsty. He then raced off to Garner and gave Tanner, who was waiting for me at the trail head there, the same lecture.

By Mile 10 my knees were killing me, but I still felt cardiovascularly great. When I saw Tanner waiting for me at the trail head in Garner, I even found a reserve to sprint gloriously to finish. When I was done showing off, I sat down and couldn't get up. Just kidding. Sort of.

I felt great, but I haven't run since then. The pain in my left knee lingered through out the week, and after some research, I'm almost 100 percent positive that I've developed runner's knee. No, this is not a cool, sexy, svelt knee that only the elite running crowd develop. Grossly oversimplified, it's chronic pain resulting from the knee cap not tracking correctly in its groove. There are lots of potential causes listed online that could weaken support around the knee cap or cause it to travel an irregular path, and they read like a checklist of all the reasons I should not be a runner: over-pronation (my feet roll in because they have no arch), wide hips (thanks, German heritage), and poor conformation of the groove the knee cap moves in (should look like a "V", mine looks like an "L" and my kneecap has dislocated three times).

So I took this week off, and hit the trail again this evening for a 6-miler. The knee started out creeky, but didn't give me too much trouble. I'm looking into options to manage/prevent the pain as I go back up in my mileage. Because I'd like run far. Far, far away. From my love handles.

Around the Dinner Table

I am a perfectionist, a neat freak, and control freak.

I know, I know. You're thinking, "Maaaaann, I wish I'd married her. Sounds like a charming, pleasant, laid back kind of gal."

Too bad. You missed your chance.

The upside is I get all our bills paid on time, my editor doesn't have to correct much when I turn in my stories, and you could eat dinner off our kitchen floor.

The downsides, oh, they are like numbering the stars. Or like numbering the June bugs Happy has eaten in the last two day: a lot.

What?

Just one of the downsides is I haven't wanted to have people over to our house until it's finished, just so, perfect. Like, after I scrape all the popcorn off the ceiling, repaint, tear up the 1980's carpet and lay down wood floors, replace the rotting trim, install crown molding, pull up all the weeds outside, hang stuff on the walls and replace all the generic pictures that came in the frames with pictures of our own, fabulous selves.

A week or so ago, our friends Andrew and Jenna invited us over to their house for dinner. It was so sweet, so thoughtful and so old-fashioned hospitable of them! We had such a great time. Jenna made tacos and smores bars, we sat around and chatted and looked at the adorable wardrobe accumulating for soon-to-be-born Baby Borne, and the boys went outside and made fires.

I left thinking, "We have to do this again!" You know, at their cute house. The one with decorations and pictures of people who actually live there in the frames. How many times could we eat there before they would start to wonder if we lived in a van or had 18 cats or really were the couple they thought they recognized on Hoarders.

Then I got to thinking. What we loved about that night with the Bornes was the fellowship, the sharing stories, the laughter, working together, whether in the kitchen or out in the shop. Jenna's home is precious, and she should be proud of it. The comfy surroundings added to the joy of the night, but it wasn't what made it. What truly made it was just being able to be loved on by our friends and enjoy time together. It was the act of Jenna and Andrew welcoming us into their home that warmed our hearts, the fact that the home was adorned so nicely and kept so well by Jenna was just a bonus. Besides, there are probably imperfections Jenna sees in her home that her guests would never notice. (Or, it just makes me feel better to think that.)

So I decided funky carpet, popcorn, junk room and all, I wanted to welcome the Bornes to our home and hopefully give them the same joy they gave us. So, last night, they joined us at the Haynes house for dinner.


Don't get me wrong, I went into manic mode and cleaned the house from top to bottom the day before they came. Tanner caught a dose of my crazy too. But it was nice to know I was cleaning it not so I could get a gold star on my OCD chart, but to make it welcoming for our friends. Life is to be shared after all! Faults and all, we're proud of our home. I'm proud of how hard Tanner has worked and how fiscally wise he's been so that we could afford this home. Mostly, I'm grateful for God blessing us with this house and such wonderful friends to welcome to it.


We made cheesy tortellini casserole (Tanner's favorite), Jenna brought a delicious spinach salad, and the boys grilled up some monster steaks. Butterscotch cookies warm out of the oven were enjoyed with fresh roasted coffee - Jenna roasted the raw beans that day! Us girls chatted around the dining room table and the boys played outside with Andrew's potato gun. From what I could tell, everyone was comfortable and happy, and no one noticed the creaky floorboard where we hide our collection of embalmed medical specimens.

JUST KIDDING!

Sweet Dreams and Beauty Cream

Recently, Tanner has made several comments about my nighttime routine. They go something like this: “What the HECK are you DOING in there?”

The first few times, I answered him literally.
“Well, I’m currently staring at myself in the mirror and sucking in and flexing my “abs” and rearranging my belly and hip pudge so I can get an idea of what I could potentially look like if I stopped eating a pecan praline, four Girl Scout cookies and one square of dark chocolate a day.”

Then I realized he was trying to make a point. I hate it when they do that.

The point being, what could anyone possibly be doing in the bathroom that would take 15-plus minutes?

Eek. Don’t answer that.

What non-toilet-related things could anyone possibly do doing every night that would take that long?

So I got to wondering if my nighttime routine is excessive, or if it is only excessive compared to Tanner’s:

-Take off clothes. (optional)
-Put on shorts. (no comment)
-Turn off lights and pull back sheets. (optional)
-Collapse on bed. (mandatory)

Mine goes something like this:

-Brush teeth (BORING, and does anyone else have such trouble keeping the toothpaste foam from coming out all over their lips?)
-Wash face
-Cringe while removing a cotton pad from the bag – egads! I hate cotton balls and cotton pads and Q-tips – then apply toner
-Apply wrinkle cream to forehead, neck and chest
-Apply eye cream
-Stare into the endless, black abyss of my pores
-Do the blubber rearranging thing

If I remember:
-Put cellulite cream onto unnamed areas. And no, I do not do this while eating a praline.
I wait until I’m done.
-Floss (BORING)
-Use mouthwash (BURNS and BORING)
-Take vitamins and probiotics

-Put on PJs
-Check every door in house 3 times to make sure it’s really locked and click the remote lock on truck keys until the truck horn can be heard CLEARLY three times
-Put the dogs to bed and give Happy pills if he needs them. Lay on Happy’s bed with him and speak unspeakable, sappy, ridiculous, humiliatingly corny baby talk to him.
-Get in bed.
-Put lotion on legs.
-Put lotion on feet.
-Put on chapstick.
-Put in mouth guard and, if the fan is on, my satin eye cover, beauty sleep thing (because I swear I sleep with my eyes half open and the fan dries them out).
-Snuggle into bed.
-Realize I have to go to the bathroom.

That pretty much sums it up.

You?

P.S. Sweet Dreams and Butt Cream was my original post title.