A few weeks ago, my husband and I sat on our couch discussing the pending details of our upcoming honeymoon. When we got married, we had agreed to take our honeymoon when I got moved in. After, you know, the chaos of the summer and fall had passed and we were settled in for the long winter. We would go somewhere warm, escape the subzero temperatures and run for the crystal-clear oceans and sandy beaches.

Between starting new jobs and all the holidays, we had sort of forgotten about our upcoming honeymoon and sat piecing together all the details. Mom and dad were coming for Christmas, we would leave for our road trip the day dad flew home. Mom would stay and watch the pets. It was a flawless plan. As most are. As much as I like to consider myself to be a ‘fly by the seat of my pants, spontaneous type’ I do love me a good plan. Seeing how my husband is very much a “enjoy the journey” kind of guy, I had planned much of the trip myself, asking his opinion on certain destinations before finalizing the details.

All was set to be a good time. Christmas came and went.

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A little over a week ago.

My big plan was originally to fly to Seattle, spend the night in a hotel then get a connecting flight to Minnesota where I would meet Andrew and we would drive the rest of the way to North Dakota. I didn’t want to make the whole flight in one day with Yoshi, since it was her first time flying and she is a naturally scared dog, I figured it would be best to break the journey up. My big plan consisted of getting all three of my very large bags, Yoshi and her kennel out the airport, to the hotel and back again the following morning.

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In eight days, I will load up my three suitcases and dog and board a plane. We will spend the night in a hotel and continue our journey the next day.

I still don’t have all the details worked out. Details like, how on EARTH do I plan to finagle three suitcases, a kennel and a dog who is terrified of her own shadow through the airport -not once, but twice? I keep saying she has no idea what she is getting into -she will go to sleep one night, expecting the next day to be the same as it has been every day of her life and will be in for a surprise of a lifetime…but really? I think her and I are in the same boat.

People keep asking if I’m excited. People also keep asking if I’m sad. As if I can only be one or the other. The truth is? I am so excited. But I am also very sad. I am a mixed bag of some serious emotion. Top that with a cold that has been kicking my butt this week and a busy schedule and well, I will be needing more than the normal amount of tissue these next few days.

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The days leading up to our wedding were more chaotic than most days!

My sister and her family arrived, which was no small feat, considering they are from England and there was a very real possibility they’d be turned away at the border. Then there were multiple showers to attend. Andrew showed up, his people slowly started to trickle in, decor needed to happen, licenses obtained, hair and dress appointments to be had, food prep…the list goes on and on.

To be completely honest, as hard as I tried to “slow down and enjoy” the process, all I really remember is being over the moon excited. In fact, I’m pretty sure Amanda was more anxious about everything than I was, and for good reason. She put so much work into making things look perfect -I couldn’t have asked for a better day and all of it went down amazingly, thanks to her.

Not only did she put together all the decorations as well as the flowers and arrangements, she decided last minute that we needed an arbor -and got to work arranging for dad to build one. We built, painted and assembled said arbor the day before the wedding.

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We are still waiting for our wedding photographs to come back, but I figured our four week, almost one month anniversary would be a good time as any to make this official: On July 3, I made my way down the aisle (probably a bit too quickly) to be pronounced man and wife with my best friend.

There aren’t too many moments in my life that I would consider as having bragging rights to. In fact, I’m generally late to any life experience (and those who know me best know that I hate being late). But having successfully dated and now married this one here, is perhaps one of my first accomplishments that I feel is worth bragging about. Don’t get me wrong, I 100% know that this was none of my doings, that God orchestrated all of this and has somehow managed to keep me from messing it up too badly and any bragging rights I have aren’t even mine. But marrying this guy, who started out as a complete stranger that I debated about not talking to, then turned into my best friend is not something I take lightly.

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