The world will never ever be the same, and you're to blame...

Changing your email address is a lot of work.

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: This blog has mostly moved to thebutterflychild.blogspot.com and you would do well to change any bookmarks and links that direct you here so that they will direct you there. That will save us both a lot of trouble and feelings of annoyance. Thank you!

Sincerely,
Mara

There cannot be a close second to you...

(Happy birthday to me.)

This blog dedication not only took the longest (obviously, my bad), but it was the hardest to write, by far.  I think I just wasn't exactly sure what to say, which makes sense, I guess.  There aren't very many individual words that express emotion well, I've decided.  You have to just get the right combination of words together just the right way and present them to just the right person, or else they are nearly meaningless.  So, this is my attempt, and I don't really expect it to make any sense.  If only life came with background music.  Disclaimer:  Remember when I talked about how I'm bad at remembering when things happened?  Yep.  Still applies, even if there are dates posted.  Could be totally and completely wrong.

Fall 2003
I'm burnin', and I know I'm gonna blister in these flames...
     I just moved to a new town.  A small, crappy one.  In a drafty farmhouse that includes green striped wallpaper in the 50's kitchen, which is connected to a bathroom that is about the size of a small closet.  My pregnant aunt doesn't fit in it, it's so small.  What friends I thought I had were gone, and I am feeling pretty broken and alone in a weird place with weird people in a weird house.  Not to mention the homeschool group full of weirdos.  I'm in the homeschool musical, which is great, except for my part.  Yes, I got the lead part, but honestly, what kid my age wants to play a tree?  I played a tree in kindergarten, people.  Still, I am bound and determined to be the best tree there, from the cheesy songs I'm forced to sing down to the tulle and vines I will be wrapped in.  Turns out, I'll end up stealing more than just the show.  He's a year younger and I have no idea he exists, but there he sits watching me sing, without me ever knowing.

January 28th-30th, 2005
Didn't I see you when you thought you'd never stand out...
     I introduce myself to Greg Jensen at Winter Blast, the junior high winter retreat, after everyone else in my youth group is talking to him as if he is one of the gang.  Everyone knows him except me, so I thought I'd go out of my way to remedy that.  I immediately recognize his name, because my friends seem to talk about him as if I should know who he is.  Turns out he knows me, too.  "I have a friend that talks about you all the time," he tells me.  "Who is that?" I ask him, even though I know exactly who he is talking about, and I know exactly why he's heard so much from him.

February 4th, 2005 (this date has been proven to be wrong, but is stated as such due to tradition.)
Everything inside you knows there's more than what you've heard...
     I would like to blame this all on Greg's big mouth, and it's true that his mouth is a large reason for this day's significance, but it's not like I said he couldn't tell him, and it's not like I didn't think he would, so it is almost just as much my fault.  Later I'm sure I'll realize how foolish and ridiculous this was, but right now, who cares?  He likes me.  Too many times I've cared about someone and they haven't cared back.  But this time he likes me.  And I like him, too.  And later I can regret being such a twerp 8th grader, but right now it's just me and him.  Oh, and Sierra sitting on the couch wondering what we're talking about over here.  We really are supposed to be babysitting and not admitting our mutual affection for one another, but Sierra can take care of that on her own.

2006
I, and I ran away, for I was afraid, afraid you'd be everything...
     There's no way.  It's been a year.  Why would he still like me after a year?  We were just kids.  We're still just kids.  Plus, we aren't even around each other ever, he doesn't even talk to me, and I'm not even the kind of girl he'd be interested in.  He likes math, I like rock music.  He's brilliant, I'm not.  He's got a heart for God, I've got a heart that struggles.  He plays baseball, I fail at tennis.  He's plays classical piano for church, I want to be a rock star.  He's a pastor's kid, I've got purple hair.  He's moved on because he realized what a fool he was to choose me over everyone else he could be with.  And rightfully so.  So I will be all the more calloused and have even stronger walls up because I don't believe he could still care about me, and I will be stronger for it.  My heart is as impenetrable as Sparta, and I like it that way.  He won't come back, and it doesn't bother me.  I don't need to feel cared about.  Right?

December 30th, 2006 - December 30th, 2007
I've got a perfectly normal heart, bruised and broken from within, at times I don't know how to start to let you in here...
     How does one go about learning to be loved?  How do you go from rejecting love in an attempt to protect yourself to allowing yourself to be cared for and wanted without fear of being wrung in two all over again?  How do you just accept it?  That's what he does, he just believes it without question.  He just knows I care about him with no questions asked, and doesn't wonder why or what my corrupt motives really are or how someone would bring themselves to care that much for him.  How come I do wonder those things?  How come I can't just believe it?  Why can't I just have faith in the fact that he says he cares about me?  But honestly, why does he want to be with me?  Why does he think I'm so special?  And why do I ask these stupid questions?  I really do want to believe it.  But is this even right?  Wouldn't it be foolish to accept that?  Wouldn't that just leave me vulnerable?  Vulnerability is dangerous, and I know more than a lot of people what it's like to make yourself known to someone only to have them decide that you're not the sort of person they want to love after all.  He says he cares about you.  Believe him. Whatever this thing is that makes me feel like I should do this, be it God or just myself, I know the sort of person he is, and he is not one to make a rash and foolish statement that he doesn't really mean.  He wouldn't tell me he wanted to be with me if he didn't mean it.  So I believe you, Andrew.  Don't ask me why, because I couldn't really say, but I believe you.

December 31st, 2007 (debatably our date-iversary)
This is the best thing that could be happening, and I think you would agree, the best thing is that it's happening to you and me...
     Today was the best day ever.  I wore my new pink sweater (I decided I'd better actually dress like a girl), and he came and picked me up at my house.  Then we went back to his house and the whole family took me to see a movie.  It was lots of fun.  And he was very sweet.  So, I suppose this means we are "together" or something.  Whatever that means.  I can still hardly believe it.  I am happy though, and I think he is the sort of person who I will be happy with for a very long time.

December 28th, 2008
4:54 PM
We should get jerseys 'cause we make a good team, but yours would look better than mine, 'cause you're out of my league...
     Well, here we are.  Thousands of conversations, a zillion song lines, bunches of little folded up pieces of notebook paper, ten or twelve "undates," and several coffee excursions later.  Hero, you are a lovely person, and that is really all there is to it.  Sorry if I embarrassed you by posting this.  Hahaha.  I'm actually not sorry at all.  So, sorry that I'm not sorry.  Anyway, this is to you, because the last few years have been quite an epic.  Remember the time you let me beat you at foosball in junior high?  Or the time you tried to give me $15 because Mikayla stepped on the case to my Relient K CD and it cracked?  Or the times we babysat for the womens' small group and threw all the toy balls at each other when we were supposed to be watching the kids?  Or the time the Przby's table broke and we had to fix it?  And that is just a few of the things I remember.  You remember more, of course, but that is one of the many reasons why we make a good team.  So yes.  THE END.  Hey, I actually made my deadline! *grin*

Don't let these spiders crawl up beside us, they want to bite us, inject the virus...

This song title probably brings back some of the fondest memories of any of the song titles I've used for dedications so far.  Not because the others aren't meaningful or that they don't remind me of the person, but this one seems different somehow.  Maybe it's due to the fact that this blog is dedicated to more than one person.  In fact, it's dedicated to three people.  Three little boys.  Really, really, really cute and awesome ones.  Quite possibly the cutest.  This blog is dedicated to my main men, Carter, Owen, and Lewis.

I met the Harms family like... four or so years ago now.  I'm not totally sure, but it's been a while.  Anyway, so I am pretty sure I started babysitting them when Owen was barely two and Carter was threeish.  (I am not good with time periods, so bear with me)  Lewis was not even an idea yet, so we won't talk about him yet.  Carter was this sweet little crazy kid who liked to wear superhero costumes and watch movies.  Owen was hilarious and spastic and loved any music with a heavy bass line and a good beat, but he had an awful temper and he would throw some massive tantrums.  One time I made him mad by not giving him more snack, and he had been crying and screaming, and he had calmed down a little bit but he was still mad, so he threw his face into the hardwood floor so that he would cry more.  It was pretty hilarious, but don't tell anyone.  He also liked to "rock," which means he would sit on his hands and knees or up on the couch and rock back and forth to the beat of whatever music is playing.  Carter was more of a talker, if I'm remembering right, and even though he liked music, he liked to watch videos and play with toys and stuff.  Both of them were constantly wearing some superhero costume.  ALWAYS.  Hardly a moment went by that they were not wearing one.  They were my favorite.  Babysitting became less of a job and more of a fun thing I got to do, to the point that I have gotten into the habit of asking Kim and Corey if they need a babysitter any time soon so I can come and play with them.

Several years have gone by since then.  Carter is in first grade, Owen is in kindergarten, and Lewis has since been born and turned one.  Carter became super shy somewhere along the line, and likes to watch videos and play with his friends and catch bugs and frogs and stuff.  I don't usually see much of him when I'm over at their house, because he is a busy little man, playing outside or watching Magic School Bus or Batman or something.  Owen is the little craft-maker.  He's always coloring or making something cool.  One time he corrected me on how I was coloring in my Superman coloring page.  Lewis loves popsicles and likes to "rock" like Owen did when he was littler.  Sometimes I will walk into his house and he will start running into furniture so I will laugh at him.  It's pretty cute.  Sometimes he is very serious, and other times he is a little spaz.  It sort of just depends on his mood.

Anyway, those boys are basically my bestest buddies.  Life is so much simpler when all you have to worry about is what video you're going to watch or whether you want to be Batman or Spiderman.  Why is everything so complicated, anyway?  I would rather color.

 

Sincerely,

Mara

Lléname con tu amor, Señor, otra vez...

This blog is dedicated to the man of many nicknames. Weathy. Weatherfired. Swayzee. Twinkle. And my personal favorite, Otra Vez. And that's not even all of them.

I originally picked this song line because it is the reason we call Patrick "Otra Vez." It's a song we sang in Mexico on our youth group missions trip. It translates "fill me completely with your love once again." Of the songs we learned that week, this one was probably the one where Patrick spent the most time forgetting the lyrics. Every once in a while you would hear Patrick, almost under his breath, singing "llename da da da da amooooor..." and then he'd get a little louder and sing "otra vez!" Eventually he did learn the words, but he had a thing for that song for some reason, and he still sings it, and we still call him Otra Vez.

Patrick became a Christian some time around March. We didn't hear about it until some time after at a Skillet concert, where he told one person and slowly but surely we all ended up hearing about it. He didn't see what the big deal was. We were thrilled, to say the least. Of course we were thrilled, though. That's what we'd been waiting to hear for months.

Every year the youth group has a big party at the school for the Iowa vs. Iowa State football game. It's a big outreach thing, and we all try to invite as many people as we possibly can. Patrick was one of them. I knew him from riding the bus with him and this guy called Rounds. He never talked to anyone and he sat by himself and Rounds would talktalktalktalk to either Patrick or me, and neither of us made much habit of responding too often, because Rounds was not a very nice guy. Anyway, so I knew who he was but never talked to him before. Then he comes to this football party, and I tried to talk to him. Just say hello, thanks for coming, are you having fun, the food is good, you know, whatever. I was not the only one to attempt this and fail. I remember Gabe asking a couple of us if we'd talked to the new guy, and we were all like "We tried and he won't respond! I think we're scaring him." Turns out, we did scare him. But he came to youth group two sundays later, and he's been coming ever since.

Patrick has missed youth group like, twice since then. He is involved in everything the youth group does. He's read more C.S. Lewis books than I have. It's pretty awesome. At first, he didn't talk to anyone at youth group. He literally showed up at the beginning, sat in a corner by himself, and left at the end. Eventually, he started to talk to us. Now we can't get him to shut up, and I mean that in the best way possible. ;-)

Patrick is a good example of why it is okay if you freak out the new people. He is also a fun person to skip advisors to go to vending machines with. He will laugh at you when your Gardettos spill all over the floor, but he will buy you more if he has enough change. He will bum rides off of you for everything and then talk about how awful your driving is, but he will let you steal his pop-tarts. He is a fun guy. You should know him.

Sincerely,

Mara

I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four wheel drive...

**EDIT** This is a WAY better song line for us. *laugh*
**EDIT AGAIN** This picture is a good example of how Sierra will steal whoever's camera is lying around and take pictures of herself with it. It's true.

This blog is to Sierra. Sierra and I have been friends for 4 or 5 years now, I think. Ever since that dumb play about the trees. She was one of the first people to come up and say hello to me when I moved here. We have always gotten along really well.

One time, Sierra got some new horses. I tried to get her to name them TobyMac and Starbucks. She didn't, but at the time, we thought those were sweet horse names. I like riding Sierra's horses. That is usually what we do when we are at her house. When we are at my house we usually watch movies and eat junk food, or pull my mattress onto the floor and talk into the wee hours of the night. We can be sort of ADD when we are together, because most of the time one of us can't sit still. We need pretty constant entertainment. I don't usually get bored, but for some reason Sierra and I always end up trying to think of things to occupy ourselves because otherwise we are pretty sure we will go insane. It's pretty hilarious actually.
**EDIT** This picture is a good example of how Sierra will steal whoever's camera is lying around and take pictures of herself with it. It's true.

Sometimes we trade clothes, too. I have a bandana of Sierra's that she still insists isn't hers. It has been in my closet for like, two years now, and she is convinced it isn't hers. Once, Sierra took my leggings to Taiwan for six weeks. I didn't even know they were gone until she gave them back. There was one time, too, where we went to a concert and she didn't know what to wear, so she went through my closet until she found something. We like to share things.

Sierra is an incredibly fun person to be around. Easily amused, yes. Quick to boredom, yes. But that just makes the things she comes up with even more hilarious and awesome. You should seriously hang out with her sometime.

Sincerely,

Mara

Feel your presence filling up my lungs with oxygen, I take you in...

This blog is dedicated to Bethany. My singing buddy, apple buddy, first night of small group upperclassmen buddy, Skillet buddy, not so secret sister, and more. To be honest, I don't spend a ton of time with Bethany, but we still somehow have lots of stories to tell, and I consider her a good friend and definitely worthy of a blog dedication, and that is why I am writing this.

I met Bethany when I was in 8th grade. She was a grade under me. When we went to Winter Blast that year, it just so happened that there was this guy who knew another guy who liked me, and when I first met this guy he made the connection and decided it was his duty to spend the weekend making me miserable by not telling me who it was and making me guess (of course, I knew the answer, but you know how it is in junior high). Well, you see, Bethany liked this guy, and the fact that I spent that whole weekend talking to him freaked her out. Almost six months later, at Prairie Fest, I discovered that fact when she referred to Winter Blast and asked if I liked Greg (he's her boyfriend now, which is why I can tell this story). I responded with a resounding NO, and then things were better. After that we were friends, but we never spent a ton of time together. We would hang out at youth group things and stuff, but that was mostly the extent of our friendship. Then some years went by, and starting last year or the year before I was in a small group with her. Well, then we started talking more and getting to be better friends. Then, over the course of the last year, we have talked a lot more, because we enjoy gabbing about our special friends together, among other things. Then, this year on the first week of small group we were the only two upperclassmen. That was pretty funny. We had good times that night.

Bethany is an incredibly loyal friend. If you are messing with someone she cares about, you are going to get your butt kicked. She is also a hard worker who tries really hard to help the people around her, and she always gives it her all, nomatter what she's doing. She is really loud, really fun, and she loves to sing. She pushes through hard times and doesn't give up when things get difficult. She always has something positive to say, regardless of the circumstances. She has been an encouragement to me and many other people, and she is one of the most fun people to be around that you will ever meet.

Winter Blast 2009, baby. We're gonna rock the house.

Sincerely,
Mara

PS) I can't find a picture of Bethany at this point, but when I do, I will post it.

Lately it just seems to me that we've got the letters ADD branded into our mentality, we simply can't focus on anything...

Again, this was a difficult song choice. All I could think of was Sweet Home Alabama, but I used that last time I did dedications. Since Andy is not much of a music person, there aren't really any songs that immediately come to mind as songs that remind me of him. So, I just picked a line that sort of sounded like us.

Andy is my brother from another mother, my taco buddy, and one of my best friends. He's the kind of guy who will give you a slightly used gift card for your birthday, but you think it's the awesomest thing ever. I can talk to him about anything and everything, and I can always count on him to do stupid random things that could potentially get us injured. For several years now I have been saying that if I die a tragic death it will be his fault. I said it in the last blog that I dedicated to him, too, and it still stands today. We are kind of not always so clever when we are together. But we always have fun, and we always live through it. So far, at least.

If you ever need someone to talk to who will be honest with you and who will take you seriously, Andy's the guy. It is really great to have someone who will just tell me if he thinks I'm being unreasonable or if I don't make sense or if I'm wrong without being a jerk. He really thinks through what he's saying before he says it, and he's a very discerning person. He knows when life is a game and when to take things seriously. One minute we are discussing why boys are dumb and girls are complicated and dramatic, and the next minute we are coating paperclips with hot glue. One time, I was watching the Chicken Shed during a scary nasty storm, and the lights were flickering and there was no background noise, and I was freaking out, and then Andy comes walking in, and we freaked out together for a couple minutes and then we watched Psych, and it was better. This stuff is pretty normal for us.

Another thing about Andy is that he can't dance. Don't even try, because it won't happen. You will trip and possibly fall. He can sing pretty well, but he rarely does that either. He likes to shoot stuff. Once, he let me shoot a 22 at a bucket. His room is full of dangerous looking things that I am usually scared to touch because it could cause my death. One time he tried to shoot a tomcat with a bow from his parents upstairs bedroom window while I distracted the cat from the kitchen window. Again, these things are fairly normal for us.

Basically, many of my favorite memories were either made by Andy or at the very least include Andy. Everyone needs a friend like him. Stay fly, brother from another mother!

Sincerely,
Mara