Avi found a Hawaiian lei at my house this weekend and insisted on wearing it around the house whilst we decorated for Christmas. I wanted to take a picture of her at one point, so I said “Lei on the kitchen table and then come into the living room, Avi!”

About a minute passed before I realized she had never come into the living room, so I headed into the kitchen only to find her laying stretched out across my kitchen table.

“Avi, why are you laying on the kitchen table?”

“YOU SAID TO LAY ON THE KITCHEN TABLE, AMY BEFF.”

It’s late on Saturday night and I’m tucked away in bed, with everyone else — Avi, Snuggles and Cuddles — asleep.  Well, almost everyone else is asleep — there’s something in the attic above my bedroom that is definitely awake and scampering around up there.  Please let it be a squirrel, please let it be a squirrel.  I mean, I don’t necessarily want a squirrel running around in my attic but I keep thinking of all the other things it could be AND FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYTHING GOOD, PLEASE LET IT BE A SQUIRREL.

Someone once told me that squirrels are nothing more than rats with furry tails.  I keep thinking about that.

It’s going to be hard to fall asleep tonight.

– — –

Having Avi with me so much lately has been really good for me and I think — well, I hope — that it’s been good for her, too.  Lately she’s been wanting to play the “mama” game all the time, where she pretends to be a mama to her baby doll, Cuddles or, if neither of those two are available, her imaginary child.  And I suppose that I’m getting a chance to play the game, too, as I’ve been keeping her so much lately.  I cut up her food, I pick out her outfits, I comb her hair after a bath.  Little things, perhaps, but they’re not so little to me.

As we were sitting at a red light the other night, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw her looking out the window at the dark sky.  I turned around to get a good look at her and, as I looked at that precious thing sitting in her pink car seat, I was just overcome with emotion and, without any good reason, said “Avi?  Did you know that I’m gonna love you forever and that nothing you do or don’t do could ever, ever change that?”

She turned to look at me and, with tears filling up her little eyes, said “But what if I’m not wiff you next year and you don’t know where to find me to love me?”

I looked her straight in the eyes and, without one moment of hesitation, told her how it’s gonna be.

“Not loving you is not an option.  If you go away, I will find you.”

– — –

I’m one of those girls who thinks about the date on the calendar, comparing where I was last year at this time to where I am now.  I didn’t write much last week because I didn’t trust myself; it was the one year anniversary of when a friend of mine, who had come to live with me for six months of her pregnancy and subsequent birth of her child, left.  I’ve only mentioned it on the blog once or twice over the past year, but don’t let that fool you — it’s been a full year of working through almost every emotion you can imagine.

It was also this exact time last year that I was in a very serious dating relationship.  Last Thanksgiving was the first time I brought someone home with me, so I’ve naturally had it on my mind quite a bit.  It wasn’t a good relationship for me to be in, but somehow, pulling into the family driveways alone this year was still an embarrassing and bitter pill to swallow.

There’s been other little things to add to the mix, too — Starlite ending, my mother remarrying, etc.  I’m not trying to complain; not all of these things have been necessarily bad, but they have been major life changes.  If you were to look at my life a year ago tonight, you’d be able to make quite a list of changes over the last 365 days.

And I think it’s safe to say that, for the first time in my rather short life, I’m a bit jaded.

– — –

I’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it through most of the year, but sometime around a month ago, it started to leak out — a short comment here, a cutting glance there.  I’ve noticed it but honestly hadn’t realized how bad it has become until this past weekend.  My friend Cara came up to visit, our first chance to really see each other since she’s been home from Ecuador other than our short breakfast a couple of weeks ago.

The thing you have to know about our friendship is that there is no other person on the planet that knows more of my “ugly” than Cara, mainly because “ugly” doesn’t scare Cara off.  During her visit, she asked me the hard questions about everything and as I told her the honest, gut-wrenching truth about all of it, it became glaringly obvious that I’m in a season of being a bit jaded with God.

(Excellent news: I was not struck by lightening for typing that last sentence.  Sweet relief.)

The dictionary uses the word “callous” to describe being jaded, with callous described as “emotionally hardened, toughened, unfeeling.”  I’d say that’s a pretty fair assessment of how I’m reacting to Him lately.  Don’t get me wrong — He and I have our good moments, of course.  But He and I also know the truth: this is not how I normally am with Him.  My heart is, at times, hardened towards Him and I don’t like it.  I know the things to do to fix it, but there’s a little part of me, the jaded part that whispers the same thing each time: “Walk away.  It’s easier.”  I started hearing the jaded part a year ago and, as the months have gone by, the voice has gotten louder: “Just walk away.  It’s easier.  You’re not even in vocational ministry anymore.  Just go ahead and walk away.”

– — –

And I’m hoping He’s got the same idea I had when it came to Avi the other night, that He’s telling me how it’s gonna be –

“Not loving you is not an option.  If you go away, I will find you.”

Attention, internet: at this very moment in time, there is a certain four year old sitting next to me telling a wee little puppy that he needs to sit still because she is about to tell him “what the schedule for today is.”  I can’t imagine where she would have heard that line from, can you?

I was supposed to be spending this weekend with my grandparents but, at the last minute, I was asked to take Avi for the weekend, which is an offer I cannot refuse.  I picked her up a couple of hours ago and already have a list about a mile long of things we’re going to do together including, but not limited to, cookie baking, Christmas tree decorating and maybe even playing with baby dolls.

But right now, I have to go rescue Cuddles seeing as he’s currently being chased with a coat hanger.

It’s the night before Thanksgiving and I’m sitting in a corner in Starbucks, listening and thinking.

And, hopefully, writing for the first time this week.

– — –

I’ve just sat here trying to write for almost 40 minutes.  And all I’ve got is what you see above.

It’s not working.

– — –

Here is what I know tonight.

Betcha they’ll be a Thanksgiving Eve where I’m up late in the kitchen, mixing and baking and planning for the ones that’ll sit around my table the next day.  Betcha I’ll have flour in my hair and crumbs on the counter.  Betcha I’ll hear my baby crying from his crib down the hall, my husband watching football in the living room.  Betcha I’ll be wondering if I bought enough rolls, if my centerpiece is perfectly centered on the table.  Betcha I’ll be calling my mother-in-law to ask her how to make the sweet potatoes.

That night isn’t tonight.  It’s not time for that yet.  Tonight my kitchen will be dark, tonight my hallway will be quiet.  Tonight I’ll be taking a bath and reading a book and being Amy Beth.  Not wife, not mother.  Amy Beth at 25, Amy Beth before family, Amy Beth alone.

And when that other Thanksgiving Eve comes, when I’m standing in that kitchen one night, when I hear the baby crying down the hall, I can promise you one thing.

Betcha I’ll think about tonight in Starbucks and smile.

Because we didn’t know Avi for the first 2.5 years of her life, learning her personality and quirks has been an absolute blast for me lately.  She does little things all the time that remind me of her daddy or her Aunt Marisa or even my own mother.  We don’t have young children in my family, so Avi is a fascination for us, a chance to see ourselves represented in a tiny little body.

And, if I look close enough, I even get a glimpse of myself in her every once in awhile.

Stunner shades and a puppy because, really, what more does a girl need in life?

1. For the first time in nearly one year, the trio of myself, Cara a la Ecuador and Cousin Cate shall be reunited in approximately 13 minutes.  There will be Italian food and a movie theater involved.  It will be delightful!

2. I will be sleeping in tomorrow morning no matter what it takes.

3. My people and I shall caravan to my mother’s wedding reception and by “my people” I mean my cousins, Cara and I because I couldn’t find a date.  To my mother’s wedding reception.  I could not find a date to my mother’s wedding reception.  Let that sink in for a moment.

4.  Speaking of that blessed event, the lovebirds are back from their honeymoon so I called to check in on them last night and, as I was telling my mother something, she interrupted me to tell me she had to get off the phone by saying — AND I QUOTE WORD FOR WORD –

“I’ve got to go.  My husband is in the other room panting for me as the deer panteth for the water.”

5. I really don’t have anything to follow that up with, but I hate ending lists on an even note so I had to continue.

6. But I also wanted to tell you to have a lovely weekend, so yet another number on our list.

7. If you’re married, I hope you find your husband pantething for you like a deer this weekend.

Avi came to spend the night with me tonight and, as we got ready for bed, she asked me if we could dance.  You’ve probably picked up on the fact that she’s spending a lot more time at my house lately and, since she’s began staying the night with me quite a bit, we’ve created a little ritual of dancing in the living room before bedtime.

Our routine is always the same: I start the song and she jumps into my arms, lays her head on my shoulder and always — always — says “sing da song to me, Amy Beff.”  And so, as I slowly dance around the living room with her in my arms, I sing the lyrics to her, very simple ones, just the same lines repeated over and over –

“I’m so glad I’m here, so glad I’m here, so glad I’m here.”

And then it starts talking about what brought us here –

“Love brought me here, love brought me here, love brought me here.”

As I was singing the song to her tonight, I couldn’t help but think about one of the lines of the song –

“I’m going to sing while I’m here, going to sing while I’m here, going to sing while I’m here.”

– — –

I sang to her for a long time tonight, slowly dancing her around the living room while she fell asleep in my arms.  I couldn’t help but think about the other night, when I told you how I wanted to dance in my living room. And I smiled to myself because there I was whispering song lyrics to someone as I danced with them across those hardwood floors. not the way I wanted it a few weeks ago, not the dance I was imagining.

But this is my dance right now.

– — –

I’m going to sing while I’m here.

I keep looking through my hundreds of pictures from my trip to Egypt three months ago (by the way, it still feels surreal to write that I went to the Middle East) and finding things I want to tell you about. So, in an effort to get the rest of it out of my system, I picked fourteen of my favorite pictures I took that you haven’t seen here yet and decided to tell you the story behind each of them in one sentence or less:

Oto, waiting in the London airport –

Hannah in the Jeep that took us to the Blue Hole, a world famous snorkeling and diving spot –

Cate and Gosling, as we three musketeers boarded a flight together –

The market, as evening began to settle –

Oto and John, three minutes from boarding in London –

Gosling journaling beside the sea –

Hannah, in our first moments on the Nile River –

My most vivid memory of my day in Garbage City –

Hannah holding “my” baby –

Cate holding a baby’s head after she fell asleep in her arms –

Trent and a baby, a picture his girlfriend back home absolutely loved –

Hannah, standing outside a church one afternoon –

Gosling, as we left Garbage City after being with the babies –

The chair I sat in by the Red Sea whilst realizing the life after Starlite was going to be okay –

And there you have it, loves — my adventure in Egypt, all summed up. Want to read the whole story, post by post?

The Big Reveal | Cate and I explain, via video, where we’re going!

London Girl | Maybe you can just sense the accent from my words?

Our First Night Alone | It involved Cate, myself and one twin bed, of course.

The First Scarf | As well as the first peek at our rooftop adventures.

Meet My Pet Camel | I go for my first ride on a camel. Enough said?

Girls Gone… Mild? | All we needed was pizza, a butcher knife and an old t-shirt.

Laundry Service | At least we know how to operate our washing machines at home.

Permanent Souvenir | Why send mom and dad a postcard when you’ve got a blog?

Homesick | Well, it had to happen at some point.

The Miss Middle East Contest | I guess they’d have to let Cate and I tie for first place.

Scars | I’ve never been so grateful for them.

Cate And Her Crocodile | Leave it to Cate to spot the crocodile and the naked man.

International iPod Incident | Did I mention they were selling DVD’s of the footage?

Leaving London | But taking the accent home with me.

Reunited And It Feels So Good | Until you listen to the video and realize you sound stupid.

Jet Lag Can’t Be That Big Of A Drag | Especially when you’re rocking the side ponytail.

The Wheels On The Bus | Who wouldn’t want Nicolas as their Seat Buddy?

Good morning, it is 6:59 a.m., I am blow drying my hair, LET’S MAKE A LIST!

1. Last night, I walked into my kitchen to find this.

I understand why you may be tempted to think I put that puppy there seeing as, um, I’ve done it before, but I promise on my very best set of hot rollers that I DID NOT PUT THAT PUPPY THERE.  He just crawled in all on his own and made himself comfortable.  In fact, he was so comfortable that he stayed there for quite awhile.

2. That is, until he ventured into my bedroom where he located an earring that I must have dropped yesterday.  He began chewing on the earring and, when I walked in and found him and my favorite pink earring in the corner of the room, I was all MOMMY IS NOT HAPPY, SNUGGLES.  The earring is now forever damaged which means that Snuggles is grounded for at least ten minutes.

3. My hair is 43% dry.  Let’s continue!

4. So, a couple of weeks ago I told you my big news about how I’m starting to do photography as a little side thing in 2010. Here’s the back story: I’ve been messing around with it for 1.5 years or so, photographing people in my life just for the fun of it.  Other people, however, have started asking and so… well, the rest is history.

5. When I told you about it, several of you emailed me to ask if I’m going to do photography outside of where I live and the answer is yes.  I’ve had a good bit of interest from several of you about coming to your area, so my rough plan at this point is to take one weekend a month each month in 2010 and use that to travel to areas where there are several people wanting it in that area.  I’m going ahead and working on that schedule now, so if you’re interested, please send me an email to let me know (amybethbullard AT gmail DOT com) and I’ll send you all the details. Most of the time my darling Katie will be traveling with me to help with the shoots so, in other words, IT’S A PARTY IN THE USA.

North Carolina, a little heads up — I’m definitely coming your way in March.  I hope you like big hair.

6. Since I drug y’all through the countdown to the lingerie shower for my mother, I feel it is my duty to inform you that she is now happily married as of about 72 hours ago.  Which is another way of saying that, for the last 72 hours, I have received many texts from the honeymoon because hey, if the lingerie shower didn’t scar me for life, MAYBE MY MOTHER TEXTING ME UPDATES FROM HER HONEYMOON WILL DO THE TRICK.

Oh, I kid.  Kinda.

7. My hair is now 97% dry so I must bid you a fond farewell.

I feel the need to begin by telling you that there is currently a puppy sitting in my lap, intently watching me type these very words. Cuddles, mama never knew you were such an avid reader of her blog! Someone’s getting an extra treat with their breakfast tomorrow morning.

I wish y’all could have known me before Snuggles y Cuddles because you would not believe how much I used to dislike animals. I didn’t pet them, hold them, touch them — nothing. I had no idea why anyone would want a pet and I already had a speech planned for when my future children asked me for a pet one day down the road. I was anti-pet, all the time.

And then, without warning, some of my Starlite college girls began begging me for a pet for the office.

I couldn’t appease them, so I called our landlord to “ask” if we could have a pet in the office, knowing he would say no and knowing that I could use his answer to stop the begging from the girls. To my surprise he seemed to think a pet was a great idea for the office and, once the girls heard this, it was over. They found me working in the office on Saturday morning and literally surrounded my desk.

I didn’t know how you went about getting a pet, but I figured a newspaper was a good place to start. I pulled up the classifieds from our local newspaper and the first ad I read happened to be from a guy trying to sell a couple of puppies from a recent litter. I called him up and arranged to meet him in a parking lot about an hour away. I didn’t mention that I was bringing eight college girls with me because I thought I should just save that as a nice little surprise.

We headed off in two cars and I will never forget pulling up to his car only to see him pull a laundry basket out of the backseat. Laying in that basket were the two cutest little things I had ever seen in my life and I knew right then that I wasn’t leaving the parking lot without both of them in my possession. One of my girls, who was designated as the negotiator, began talking prices with him. For some reason he didn’t want to sell me both dogs, even though I offered to pay full price for both of them. He kept turning my offer down, insisting that I could only take one puppy home with me.

I went across the street to pull some money out of my savings account and, as an act of faith, pulled out enough money for both puppies hoping he would change his mind when he saw cash in front of him. I still remember sitting in that car in front of the ATM, tears rolling down my cheeks because I just couldn’t leave one of them behind — I didn’t want two siblings separated.

Even cold hard cash didn’t faze him. It became obvious that I needed to choose one of the puppies and, after standing in front of the laundry basket for a long time, I picked the one who wasn’t the runt, mainly because I was afraid that the runt would die on me but also because the other puppy was cuter. As I watched him load that laundry basket back into his car, I felt sick to my stomach. I knew I was supposed to have both puppies.

For the next two weeks I took care of that first little puppy, Snuggles, all while thinking about that second little puppy. I called the man a few times, asking if I could please buy the other puppy but the answer was the same every single time: no. Katie, our former bride-to-be, was one of my roommates at the time and, though she hadn’t even seen the other puppy, she felt very strongly that I was supposed to have it. I was sitting in an all-day grad class one afternoon when she began instant messaging me, telling me to call the guy back one more time. On the next bathroom break, I reluctantly called him and, for whatever reason, he agreed to sell me the other puppy as long as I agreed to meet him in a parking lot within an hour.

I skipped the rest of class that day.

Anyone who has been around my puppies will tell you that the second one — the runt, Cuddles– is far more attached to me than the first one. Cuddles always wants to be near me. He’s the one who runs in circles when I come home from work at the end of the day. I keep thinking that one day I’m going to come home from work and Cuddles won’t run in a circle but we’re getting near two years of life together and it hasn’t happened yet.

Make fun of me if you want, but I can’t tell you what it does to me to know that there are two little things waiting for me to come home each night. They may be little and they may not be able to carry on a conversation with me, but they’re two of the most darling things in my life.

Well, except for when they chew up my ballet flats. There’s nothing darling about that.