If You Would Have Told Me. . .

If you would have told me 5 years ago {or even 3} that I would buy four gallons of milk and at least 3 loaves of bread from Costco every few weeks, I would have called you crazy. Especially because I don't drink milk. . . hardly ever. {Bread, however, is a different story. We be tight.}

If you would have told me. . .

. . . that I would watch "Cars", "Tangled", "Curious George", and "Sesame Street" so many times that I would be able to write a riveting biography on every single character, I would have kindly explained that I plan to raise my child without television. {Yeah, that worked well.}

. . . that I would ever drink a glass of water without ice in it, I would have cried. {But then we moved to Magna and I quickly calculated that I would cry far fewer tears drinking refrigerated water than if I attempted to drink exceedingly nasty Magna ice water.}

If you would have told me. . . 

. . . that I would discuss the contents of my new baby's diaper with the love of my life over a nice dinner, I would have looked at you like you had lobsters coming out of your ears.

. . . that I would ever have a blog that more than 2 people read, I would have needed to change my trousers. {So, thank you, dear people. You make me very happy. You also make for extra laundry, but that's beside the point.}

. . . that I would love {and laugh with} my husband more each year we spend together, I would have asked how such a thing was even remotely possible.




If you would have told me. . . 

. . . that I would be spoiled beyond measure with a spankin' new house for my first home, I would have kindly told you were off your rocker. I seemed to always picture a quaint, tiny little clapboard house with crooked front stairs but plenty of personality and room for improvement instead. {Like I said-- spoiled.}

. . . that I would rely on the family dog to lick up the spaghetti that was thrown across the kitchen floor, I might have cringed and explained that I would certainly mop every day instead; not count on canine slobber to cover up the traces of lunch. {I think I may have just caused my mother cardiac arrhythmia.}

. . . that I would become frighteningly proficient at keeping a sliding closet door from being repeatedly slammed against the unsuspecting wall using nothing but this thing:



I would have been in awe. And then asked for an instruction manual.

If you would have told me. . .

. . . that I would be able to change a diaper in a matter of seconds while keeping the kid's shoes on and using my elbow to keep them from rolling away all while in the backseat of a {parked} car in the middle of the night, I would have shown you my modest attempts at changing diapers in the past and point out how it usually took me at least two minutes and five tries. Then I would have asked if this 'new me' gets a gold medal for accomplishing such a superhuman feat.

. . . that the best friend I had in kindergarten would remain one of my very best friends for 20 years {and counting}, I probably would have died from excitement {thus resulting in a much shorter friendship, all things considered}.

. . . that one of my most ferocious pet peeves would be my kid drinking the bath water, I would have pointed out that my pet peeves usually revolve around more meaningful things like disrespect, immaturity and mini paperclips.

. . .

If you would have told me that I would be able to find the best and most amazing friend and comforter in my Savior, Jesus Christ, I would have nodded and said, "Yes. I know. And may I always, always remember that."

{photo source}