Becoming Maricelli (mar-sell-ee).

When I started this post, I was pretty hopped up on steroid medication to get rid of a sinus infection, but it in no way masked my true, unadulterated excitement about letting y'all know that I GOT MARRIED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE LAST WEEKEND!!!!

It's true, everybody.

And, of course, this really does mean something for everyone, not just the newest Mr. and Mrs. Maricelli (pronounced "mar-sell-ee").

• Ok, let's start with me. (What? There are some values to this being my blog, right?) This redhead has found the one whom her soul adores (Song of Solomon 3:4). This may not be earth-shattering to those of you who know me as Girl With Many Friends or who have met Michael and seen us interact. But to those of you who are familiar with Girl Who Wouldn't Go On Third Date or Girl Who Didn't Think Anyone Was Interested in Her in High School, it's a pretty big deal, and I couldn't be happier.

• Michael's commitment to the black bean brownie lyfe is now in stone. At the rehearsal dinner, he breezed past the salad, informing me in a carefree tone, "This is a MAN challenge!" His mother later told him, "You have the rest of your life for salads, Michael." With a pained look, he replied, "Trust me, I know." Your prayers are welcome and appreciated.

• Nan, much to my surprise, told me a day or two before the wedding that she had "mixed emotions." When I reminded her she'd been trying to marry me off since I hit puberty, she informed me, "I KNOW. And I love Michael and I know yer happy and I'm happy. But I KNOW YOU SINGLE so I feel happy AND sad." It was an incredibly sweet conversation, but she immediately shifted gears when I told her we would come to see her after the wedding. "Aha. I want CAKE."

• Both sets of our parents responded with a great balance of emotion and support, and more love than either of us could have asked for. Given that we are not at the tender age of twenty-anything, there has been some chatter about The Big Christmas Adjustment with rotating at holidays and how everyone will feel. Also, my Daddy, with tears streaming down his face during the father/daughter dance, cleared his throat and said, "Well, y'all need to come see us sometime." So of course I cried and pointed out the nearest boat. Emotions. Lots of emotions. Also, I need to be sure to take notes from Michael's mother on things like not letting his waffle get cold before he puts his butter on it, and as I've learned with this lovely sickness, being more sympathetic when he gets something first. (I could've been much nicer.)

• My nephew is mainly concerned about two things: sleeping arrangements when we're all at Grammi and Grandpa's, and what he'll end up calling Michael. (I say it should be Uncle Michael, but Michael prefers Uncle Mike, even though we already have one in our family. "It rolls off the tongue," Michael argues.) At any rate, surely we will get those things worked out.

That said, it was a beautiful (though hot) day, and I couldn't be more thrilled to have committed to spending the rest of my life with this one who I know God created to enhance my strengths and better my weaknesses. 

Visit our wedding website for more of our story.

Wordless Wednesday.

Wordless Wednesday.

The Baby Jesus Cake.

My sister and her family are Yankees.

Ok, not really. They live in the northern part of Alabama. And in all fairness, they're transplants. But compared to the Biloxi, New Orleans, and Baton Rouge areas, it's kind of a stretch.

One of the more significant differences between here and there is the lack of Mardi Gras celebration "up north."

While our conservative Southern Baptist family is Protestant to the T, we still make room in our hearts, religions and tummies for king cake each year, so it was pretty important to us to introduce my nephew to king cake as early as possible.

Caleb is now 7, so I guess it was 4 or so years ago when he had a friend over during the Mardi Gras season after a king cake from home had arrived. It was time for a snack, and Caleb excitedly asked Will, "You wanna piece of baby Jesus cake?"

Caleb's friend reacted the way any Yankee -- ahem, I mean non-coastal person -- would, and firmly said no.

Who wants a piece of cake that sounds like it's made from the baby Jesus? No thank you!

However, Caleb's little-boy-terminology makes me think each time I remember it.

King cakes' inclusion of the plastic baby representing Jesus isn't just random; it's symbolic. While the whole point of Mardi Gras has been wildly exaggerated into a Bourbon Street perspective by the general public, its roots stem from the devout reverence for the many sacrifices that Jesus made for us.

So tasting this delectable pastry is more than just fattening up one particular Tuesday (and maybe every day before then, depending on how many delightful king cakes you're exposed to). Eating king cake and being reminded of the baby Jesus -- sometimes painfully in the tooth area -- are all part of what really is logical about Mardi Gras. We enjoy, we indulge, we celebrate life and all its gifts, and then we take some time to somberly appreciate those gifts, minus the indulgences.

But even still, if I were a Yankee (or something like that), and someone offered me a piece of "baby Jesus cake," especially when I was in pre-school, I probably wouldn't take 'em up on it, either. :-)

5 Things I'm Thankful For.

Five things I'm grateful for today are:

1. Fall weather. Mmmmmm mmmm good!

2. New opportunities to learn, discover, and be educated.

3. Fruit.

4. A hilarious nephew.

5. New hair.

Saying hey.

A few months ago, I took a road trip with my sister, her husband & their son. (I was invited. By her husband. Just to clear the air on any potential intrusion claims.)

One of my (very many) convos with my very talkative nephew (could I be prouder?!) included a discussion about cell phones. And how I use mine a lot. And how he doesn't have one. And how I didn't, either, at that age -- partly because my parents never would've stood for it AT AGE SIX, but mainly because they didn't exist...and when they did, they were in bags.

My favorite response from Caleb (with a similar expression to the embedded pic) was, "But....if you and my mom didn't have cell phones, how did y'all say hey?!"

It was SO cute (from my unbiased perspective, of course), and frighteningly, so telling.

I mean, from birth, this child has been totally used to us picking up the phone or texting at any given moment to "say hey." No boundaries, no long distance, no time constraints -- we just do what we need to do to get through that moment, or day, or hour.

Which is super nice. And makes me wonder how we survived before. Although I know we did. And even before email. (Which is enough to make this communications addict shudder.)

But thank the good Lord for modern technology.

I do love my sister. And saying hey.

The Turnaround.

My adorably hilarious nephew is 6, and he's a pretty brave kid. He did inherit his mother's preciously tender heart, which I love with all of my own semi-tender heart, but he also is all boy, so the sweetness comes out when you least expect it. And I love that.

This year, Caleb graduated from kindergarten. My sister teaches language arts at a school near his campus, so getting him to and from class has been an interesting set of logistics to work out. At first, he was expectedly sad to see her go. Then other older students of hers started walking him to class, and things smoothed out a little.

About a month ago, my parents visited them for a weekend and took Caleb to school on the Monday morning before they left to go back home. According to my parents, he was super big and brave, and walked to the door with his backpack (looking much like a little man, I'm sure), then turned around and waved bye and proceeded into his building. My parents lost it. It's hard saying goodbye to kids anyway, but their only grandson, and looking so grown up, and being so brave... You know. Tough stuff.

Later, my parents learned that after Caleb entered his school building, he lost it as well. School starts early (I'm not sure how early, but you remember the outrageous times those first bells would ring), and apparently Caleb's teacher could not get him calmed down until around 8:30. In kindergarten time, I'm pretty sure that's like 4 days.

Later, when my sister talked to my nephew about why he was so upset, he explained very simply, "I don't know, Mom. I'm always ok till the turnaround."

Thankfully, things like his sweet teacher, recess, and even math can help distract him.

This weekend, I am in a place I love deeply and that I resided in for nearly ten years. Ten very crucial post-college, growing up years, I might add. Jackson, Mississippi holds a plethora of beautiful memories and coming-of-age markers for me, but it also holds some bittersweet pivotal life points, as well.

I knew before this visit that it wouldn't be 1,000% rosy. A friend was dying. His wife is aching, while still trying to function and work at her paying job, and work even harder to take care of him and their children. And even aside from that, I've had enough emotional precursors over the past few months to realize that this trip would hold more than just a feta dressing fix from Keifer's and long laughs with my best-good girlfriends.

This trip to Jackson is definitely a turnaround for me. Change was in my air before I even got in my car to make this drive, and I am really, truly happy about it. I've been given a few opportunities for some new beginnings, and much to my own surprise, I'm lapping them up like an overplayed puppy would a fresh pan of cold milk.

Even so, Caleb is right. Athough I'm walking into a wealth of opportunity for learning and life experiences, the turnaround is hard. I know that when I turn around, something beautiful will happen, it will further my life education, and I am prepared to make the absolute most of it that I can. But a look back at the old can still make one cry -- whether one is a 33-year-old career chickadee or 6-year-old kindergarten grad.

After thinking a lot about Caleb's and my own situations, I think it's ok to get emotional at the turnaround -- it honors the good times you had in the past, and lets your peeps know they're loved and valued. In fact, it might be odd to NOT get emotional at the turnaround.

But part of the turnaround is in the actual turning, and the bright, unlimited possibilities that await.

Which will be super cool, much like kickball at recess.

Energy.

In my humble opinion (or, IMHO, to those of you acronym-savvy readers), energy is a very strange thing.

For instance, it is currently 2:25am, and I am buzzing with it. Ok, so I had a fun day. I was productive at work, got to mix business with pleasure (went to New Orleans for a vendor meeting and got to hear my favorite band and hang out with a best friend), and feel good about life. But for real. 2:25am. No medical assistance, just me, as flittery as a butterfly, hopping around and getting things done. (I know. You're jealous you're not my neighbor. Anyway...)

Also, there's the tiny (pun intended) subject of calories. Much to my surprise as an adult whose metabolism has clearly slowed (and a former student who clearly has zero memory rentention), calories are supposed to equal energy (?).

For me, calories generally equal fat rolls. So what's up with that? I mean, sure, if I consume less, I guess I feel more energetic since there's less of me to move. But if I consume more, I feel the overwhelming urge to crawl into the fetal position and nap on the couch for 7 straight hours. Which really makes zero sense. More energy = more energy, right? Wrong.

And then we move onto the "youth is wasted on the young" theory. If I watch my nephew for an hour, I am sort of jazzed, but if I watch him for 3 hours, I am wiped out.

The nephew is 6. The aunt is 33 1/2.

He wakes up ready to go, does not understand the concept of caffeine, and has not, to my knowledge, developed a taste for coffee. Two of his first words were "Go!" and "Play!," and that's pretty much the gist of what we still talk about.

"Hey Bekah. When you gonna come to Alabama so we can play again? I have some Wii games that you'll have to work really hard at. You'll love 'em!"

"Happy birthday, Aunt Bekah. Did you get any fun toys?  Oh... You got some cards and phone calls and a picture? Well....that's nice. At least people called you because they love you. Happy birthday." 

"Aunt Bekah, this big bouncy ball that I play with every time I come here.... What do you do with it? I mean, when I'm not here? EXERCISE? Oh. You don't ever roll it down your stairs for fun when I'm not here? Oh..." 

"You know, if you take a nap, we won't get to play as long. Really. I have all KINDS of cool army men to play with. You don't wanna miss this." 

"My teacher? Um, well, yeah, she's nice and all. But kindergarten is a LOT of hard work. The best part is play time. Huh? Yeah, we do math. But better than math is P.E. And recess. We can PLAY then. Yep, I did good on that test, but guess what else I'm best at? Climbing that jungle gym you saw in the playground. And the TALLEST POLE out there. I slide down it. I'm not scared at ALL."

And exercise, speaking of. It's supposed to give you energy, yes? Well, I can occasionally get the oft-rumored runner's high, but not always. (Why not always?) And if I exercise in the morning (like is constantly insinuated all responsible adults should do), I'm zapped the heck out by 3pm. No lie. If I exercise after work -- 6pm-ish -- I'm good till 10 or 11, and can go to bed at normal time, like a normal person. But if I exercise later -- 9pm or so -- game over. I'm up all night. Sometimes.

So you can see how energy is a conundrum for me.

I'm not really blogging about this to get any answers, though if you have them, feel free to share. I'm sort of typing all this out because I feel I'm jittery at now nearly 3am for no reason at all, and I might as well do something semi-productive with my time.

So, in summary, here are my thoughts:

• Calories are not defined correctly.
• Calories are mean.
• I will never get the calorie = energy thing.
• Youth IS wasted on the young.
• ....Except it's super-fun watching my nephew enjoy his youth.
• ....Unless he's waking me up with it.
• Exercise is clearly out to get me.
• Those who exercise early in the morning have issues.
• I do not.
• I could go on forever but must make myself stop.
• ....Because NO ONE else is awake right now.

Hmmpfh. So. I just yawned. How 'bout that.

Five.

Five things I'm grateful for right now are:

1. Friends, near and far.
2. People who do nice things for other people. Whether or not I'm a beneficiary in this, I really appreciate it.
3. Heat.
4. Gloves.
5. My nephew, who makes me laugh literally every day.

Saintsgiving.

It's hard NOT to steal the "Saintsgiving" rename of the holiday with New Orleans (finally!) doing so well this season, and given my nephew's new obsession with football and love for our Saints.

Our family got together for Thanksgiving last week and had such a great time catching up and visiting. We also ate a little bit...but anyway. :-) We were able to take Thanksgiving dinner to Nan and Pop Ball's, who have dealt with major health issues this year, and get some good visiting in.

And since my sister and her family alternate holidays between both sets of in-laws, we also tied Christmas in with Thanksgiving the next night.

For Christmas this year, my parents and I gave my nephew a Saints uniform, which to our delight, could not have gone over better. Caleb was SO cute as he opened his helmet, then his whole uniform, then his football. He couldn't get into the uniform fast enough, leaving his original outfit laying by the hallway. :-) I, of course, couldn't get enough pictures of him in that precious uniform. It was just big enough for him to be able to wear it for a while, and hello -- is there anything cuter than a child in a too-big football helmet?!

The next day, he played a good bit in the yard with Grandpa, who was more than happy to toss the football and frisbee with Caleb, take him on a tractor ride, and have their traditional race. They were so cute and I, much to everyone's shock, got tons of pictures to commemorate the fun.

Also involved in the weekend were roasting marshmallows (yay for a coastal Thanksgiving cold enough for a fire!), making Mississippi mud with Grammi, lots of battles between the Army, British, Cowboy & Indian figures Caleb brought along, and several movie viewings, including "The Alamo" and "Night at the Museum."

And my weekend was capped off by a situation I ALWAYS love -- time with cousins and childhood friends, who, when the moon is just right, all get to come together for some quality, invaluable hangout time when we're all home. (Naturally, I forgot my camera. It's tradition.)

All in all, it was a fantastic time all the way around, with a good balance for me of work, play, home, and getting out and about.

And...it must be said...how 'bout them Saints?!

Joie de vivre.

I've had one of those days that reminded me of the joy of life, and living, and how ridiculously thankful I am for all I have and where I've been -- good and bad.

So this time, I'm listing things my heart is brimming over with thanks for, and I'm not stoppin' at five.

1. My home state. I am in mad love with Mississippi, and the fact that I've had the opportunity to spend so much time in so many parts of it. Faith Hill had it right -- no matter where I am, I'm still (and always will be!) a Mississippi girl. :-)
2. Old friends. There is something to be said for the peeps who know you well, have seen you at your worst, and still love you. I'm overly blessed with the most wonderful friends EVER. How this happened, I have no idea, but I pray to God I don't do anything to mess it up! My peeps are the best peeps.
3. New friends. Meeting new people never gets old! Sometimes I think it's not the best habit of mine (for maintenance reasons and all), but aren't new personalities the best?! It's so cool to learn where others are coming from and to see where they'll go.
4. The past -- all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly are all part of where and who I am now, and today, I happen to really love where and who I am now. I never thought I would be thankful for some of my ugliest experiences, but I'll be dadgummed if they're not reminding me of how good it feels to feel good today.
5. Cruise control. I would love to hug whoever invented it.
6. Fall colors. I know I don't shut up about this, but I'm all about some fall leaves and colors, and since I don't see much of those in BR (until this week!), it was absolutely breathtaking to drive up through Mississippi and see the vibrant colors. (I guess I would need to be hospitalized if I was actually up north, where real fall occurs.)
7. Stereotypes. I was reminded this weekend that just because I set stereotypes, it doesn't mean they're in stone. That was a good reminder. Sometimes this redhead needs the "refresh" button clicked so she can see things as they are, not just as she imagines they are.
8. A nephew who loves his aunt. There is absolutely nothing in the world that could make my heart fuller than to hear my hilarious nephew's voice trash talking me about football, or commentating on his 5-year-old life like the old soul he is, or incredulously getting excited because he "gets to see" me in only three days.
9. Music. If you know me at all, you know I love it. And there's nothing like ten hours in the car to reminisce on the playlists of your life in every genre! Rock. On. Or country on. Or jazz on. Or...
10. Scripture. It's amazing how, like music, Biblical reminders can pop up just when you need them. I'm thankful to have been raised in a family and church where I was taught Bible verses at a very young age, and that they still stick with me when I need them most.
11. Being a girl. For real. Sometimes I gripe about it, but secretly, I love it. :-)
12. Reminders of Aunt Mildred. I had the sweetest, funniest great-aunt ever, and since she died, I have noticed more and more when things remind me of her. Like good sweet tea. And decorative dish towels. And a new friend's laugh that sounds exactly like it came from Auntie M's kitchen table! Fantastic. I love that a beautiful sound allows me to see her shoulders shake from getting tickled, even though I can no longer give her a hug and kiss.
13. My mother's cornbread dressing, and the fact that I get to eat it this Thursday. No further commentary needed.
14. My family. They are the best of the best, hands-down.

A new friend said something this weekend I've not really heard adults state so frankly:

"Hey. I'm happy."

At the time, I grinned and told him I was glad.

Today I'm there, and can only grin again and think, "Well said. And ditto that!"

Giving Thanks.

Five things I'm thankful for at this very moment are:

5. Cousins who are, hands-down, the coolest ever (ever).

4. Facebook. I know I sound like a 12-year-old, but seriously. I love keeping up with my peeps from different places and life stages. And as my sweet friend (and clinical psychologist) Dr. Jane says, updating one's status is definitely thereapeutic. Also, I'm an addict.

3. My nephew's ever-expanding (and hilarious) personality. It is so cute to watch him jump into new interests (and, of course, act like he's always been there).

2. Parents and grandparents who love -- each other and me.

1. New seasons. I love them when they're literal, but also when they're figurative. It's a great time to take a deep breath and marinate in this one.

Y'all two sisters.

My 5-year-old nephew has taken to calling his mom and me "y'all two sisters."

I think he's grasping the concept of siblings, and of course the number thing, and I just love that he's tying "y'all" in with it.

Some of the ways Mr. Man will use this and similar phrases are:

• Are y'all two sisters about done talkin'? Dad and I are ready to go.



• Yep, that's what I thought y'all two sisters might say.
  (especially after we say something in unison, which we sort of do a good bit)



• Leave it to y'all two sisters to come up with that.



• Your OTHER sister said the same thing!



• Etc.

It's really too cute, and I've definitely added it to my list of things I wish he'll never self-correct, like "Behbeh" (first "Bekah" term, which is long gone), "lello" (kids' infamously adorable "yellow" pronunciation, also quickly self-corrected), and "zee-ert" (Caleb's very own term for dessert, which thank heavens, he still says).

Cinco de Julio.

Five things I'm grateful for today are:

1. A job that allows me to work hard, play hard (on my off time), and enjoy both...even on some Mondays. :-)

2. Peanut butter.

3. Boot camp. I know I have griped about it incessantly for the past 8 weeks, but I think I'm gonna miss the stinkin' class, after all.

4. Living in part of the world, country and region that is relatively unaffected by the recession. The more I talk to friends in other (and literally higher, more northern) places, the more I realize how fortunate I am to be in BR, where some prices have gone up and some jobs are in jeopardy, but at least peeps are able to get out and about with smiles on their faces and plans on their agendas.

5. Nephews, their loose and lost teeth, and their plans to whip their aunts into shape via the Wii (and boundless, 5-year-old energy) during upcoming visits. :-)