I seriously just almost drowned myself on a gulp of water. I was walking up the stairs to my office and apparently forgot how to swallow, because after taking a sip of water I immediately started coughing so hard that the water went UP MY NOSE and I felt like I had just done a cannonball in a pool without holding my schnoz closed. And then when I managed to get to my desk, I coughed some more and there were little black stars all around my eyes and my head hurt.

And now? Now I’m fine. I am also covered in spittle laced water because I’m obviously six months old. I blame the water. Dr. Pepper has never done this to me and if I wasn’t drinking so much damn water for Operation: Fit Back Into Bitten Dress then I probably wouldn’t have almost drowned.

Speaking of Operation: Fit Back Into Bitten Dress, let’s… speak of it.

David and I have been together for two years and we got together, I was wearing a size 4/6. I was supremely happy in my body because it had been a long time coming. I had started going to the gym and eating better in early 2009 and by the time David and I got together in 2010, I had literally dropped about 20lbs (I could’ve dropped it a lot faster if I didn’t still indulge but HEY WHATEVER).

And now? Now… I do not wear a size 4/6. And while size and pounds aren’t what really matters in the grand scheme of things, the ol’ cliche does: You have to feel good about yourself. And right now? I just kind of don’t. I mean, I don’t grimace when I look in the mirror unless I’m sitting down and I’m wearing ill fitting jeans (which are ALL OF THEM). I don’t lay awake at night hating my body or anything. I just want to feel good again. And I want to not get cranky and irritated and sleepy at 8:00 because I ate a bunch of junk all day.

So! Rather than give myself a “weight goal” or a “size goal” (because every damn store has a different sizing chart apparently), I’m giving myself a “fit into that strapless dress you love so damn much again”.

I wore it a bunch last year which tells me that all of that country cooking David has introduced me to finally took over. It’s a gorgeous dress that his sister handed down to me and it’s from Sarah Jessica Parker’s now defunct Bitten line. It’s strapless and it’s the perfect knee length. It’s a really pretty floral pattern and is this exact desing except blue instead of yellow with silver & white leaves. And I love it. So so much. And I want to wear it again, damn.

Also, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here or not, but I’m getting married in less than six months. And I want to be in tip top, happy, healthy shape by then. SO. Accidental drownings or not, I guess I’ll keep on chugging the water.

I will also keep indulging a bit because last night, we went to the Braves game with Amanda & Stew and I ate a slice of pizza, a little plastic helmet of chocolate Dippin’ Dots and about 72 beers. And no, I don’t feel the least bit guilty. I shall indulge and then I shall forget about it and carry on with the water. And the fruit. And the salads.

OH! And I also gave myself a “rewards” plan. Basically, if I continue to eat healthy and move my ass in some form or fashion, I’m allowed to buy myself one small thing like a pair of earrings or a new Kindle cover or whatever. And I know it sounds like the dumbest shit ever, but I have my eye on these earrings and if I have to eat nothing but grapes and Laughing Cow cheese for the next five days to get them THEN BY GOD I WILL.

…this entry is so jumbled.

So I’m one of those people who gets so damn excited that I literally shake and I grin like a fool and seriously sometimes a giggle just BURSTS out of my mouth and I look like a lunatic. Am I the only one who does that? Who gets so happy and gleeful and excited that HEHEHEHE comes shooting out of my mouth like fireworks? The more deranged and Joker-esque it sounds, the happier I am. Like a sweet, chirpy little bird! On crack. And with an evil plan to finally take down Batman.

I digress.

You guys, I am SO excited and happy and gleeful about our wedding. OUR WEDDING! I am marrying the man of my dreams and planning it is so much fun that I could just HEHEHEHE myself right into the looney bin.

We’ve been engaged for over a year and while I’ve been loosely planning it the whole time, it’s only in the past few weeks that I’ve finally made some decisions. I’ve got my mind set in a direction and as each new idea pops up, I no longer feel panicked that I need to change the entire aesthetic of the wedding. Now I just need to take that new idea, tweak it a bit and see how it would work with our entire day.

I’m just so happy. The whole day is coming together as a complete celebration and extension of us. From David’s uncle making his famous barbecue to the homemade “little white chapel” we’re making for the ceremony to the dance tunes and the lights in the trees and the mason jars as drinking glasses… it’s going to be the perfect backyard party with an English garden twist (seriously, croquet anyone?). Also, a touch from the movie Tangled. Shhh everyone will make fun of me if they know that part.

For the first few months of planning our wedding, I was worried that I couldn’t have everything I wanted if it didn’t “go” together. I was worried that I couldn’t have bright colored ceremony programs and baby’s breath in the flower arrangements or that I couldn’t have a “festival” feel to the day, but still have vintage tea cups on the bar. And that’s so silly. The whole point of the day is to make it OURS. It’s to incorporate every little thing that makes up who we are as a couple, as individuals, as a family and turn it into a celebration.

And who are we? We’re fun. We like to laugh and spend time outdoors and eat good food and chase babies. We like to sing at the top of our lungs in the car, play games with our families, drink out of mason jars, and make s’mores. We like to daydream about living in The Shire with Bilbo Baggins, about having a magic wand like Potter, about kissing under the stars. We are Southern and we are British and we are a little bit of everything in between.

And so is our wedding.

I am so beyond excited, you guys. I am getting married! In the backyard that holds all of my dreams to the man OF my dreams. I am going to have two babies standing next to me on our big day and I am going to vow to love them forever and ever amen. I am going to hear “I now pronounce you man and wife” and I am going to want to drop to my knees and thank God because oh man. I am so, so lucky.

When I put Chloe to bed Thursday night, she insisted that I “make up a story” after we had already finished her favorite Clifford book (SHE READ THE WHOLE THING!). I told her to make up a story and instead, she recited the entire story I made up for her TWO weekends ago about Cowgirl Chloe and a misunderstanding with the Easter Bunny. It’s funny how many things stick with her. She seriously told it verbatim and then demanded I make up a new one. So together, we came up with a story and acted it out with her stuffed animals until she was begging for “just one more!”

I came out of her room, walked to my mom and said “Dude, I got this mom shit down.”

—–

My little brother TOTALLY GOT MARRIED. Oh my goodness, you guys. I cried through the whole ceremony. I mean UGLY cried. And Ashley looked SO beautiful. As usual with a sibling wedding, I did nothing but run around Friday afternoon/evening and Saturday morning, but it was totally worth it in the end. Ashley told me thank you about seven thousand times and all I could say back was “Oh please! Do NOT worry about it! This is what we’re here for! …also, remember this shit in six months.”

Oh my God, I’m getting married in six months!

We decorated Tyler’s truck and my dad’s car before they left for their honeymoon (they were driving the truck home and then switching cars with Dad for the drive to Orlando) and I wrote “BABYMAKER” with arrows pointing to Tyler in the window. Except I kind of forgot that was the car my dad was going to drive to their house… with my granny in the passenger seat. Woops.

—–

Sunday afternoon, we joined one of my best and oldest (as in, friends since eighth grade not like she’s 75 or anything) friends Amanda at the ballpark we all grew up on to watch her husband umpire a few games. Her sweet boys were there to play with our kids while we all enjoyed some long-awaited chat time. At one point, she had to help Little A out with the bathroom and she handed me Baby J who is the sweetest, happiest baby on the block, I swear. My womb was literally aching (what, too much?) while I bounced him in my arms. At one point, David took him from me and OH MY HEAVENS.

Yes, I have seen my fiance play with his own two babies. Yes, I have seen my fiance hoist his eighteen month old son on his hip when I first met them and I have seen my fiance dress a four year old for bed and kiss her goodnight. But I have NEVER seen my fiance hold a BABY. Like a real, gurgling, clad in a Mickey Mouse FOOTIE OUTFIT baby with bright eyes and big happy cheeks and the silliest, gummiest grin around. I almost fainted. “I forgot how light you people were,” David said while he was cradling Baby J in his arms. He was tickling him and throwing him up in the air and wiping his spit-up from his chin and smiling at him and handing him his pacifier and oh my God, my heart exploded into a thousand trillion pieces.

There may be something about a truck and an ice cold beer, but there’s also something about the sexy man you love holding a darling baby.

—–

Praise God that we have a new car, you guys. With all our running around this weekend and then me picking up the kids (a three hour drive roundtrip) and us taking them home Sunday, our Honda CR-V is like magic. I am in love with it. Especially since I can totally fit a third kid in that backseat.

Totally just had an image of David holding our third kid and did an involuntary SQUEEEEE!! and then I fell over and hit my head on the desk and LOOK AT ALL THE PRETTY STARS.

I guess we should get married first. MAWWIAGE IS WHAT BWINGS US HERE TODAY.

It’s also what bwings me babies HUZZAH!

My little brother is getting married tomorrow. MARRIED! He’s going to walk down an aisle and wear a tux and a rose and pledge his life to the sweetest girl in front of their family and friends and God. I’m going to be a blubbering mess. A happy, joyful, blissful blubbering mess.

It’s times like this that make me so glad I didn’t go to LA when I had the chance. I’ve always wanted to be an actor and when I was 19/20, I really thought I was going to move out to LA. That was my dream for a long time and now that I’m acting here in Atlanta, I’m just so so grateful that fate stepped in and steered me back to Georgia. I can’t imagine not being here in the weeks leading up to Tyler’s wedding, you know? I can’t imagine having to rush to get here and then sitting by myself in the pew. But now? Now I’ll be sitting with David and my two darling babies, daydreaming of nieces and nephews and our own wedding in six months.

SAY WAT. YES. Six months! Six months from today, I will be having brunch with my bridesmaids and Mama and Granny, listening to my own “wedding morning” playlist (with such classics as “Going to the Chapel”) and imagining myself as Samantha Darby Sollenberger (it’s like having marbles in your mouth or something). I can not believe that we’ve been engaged for over fourteen months. I can not believe that I still haven’t made a dent in all of our wedding projects. I can not believe that I am not the least bit nervous about it.

I told Emily (one of my bridesmaids and BFFLYLAS) that I seriously do not feel any anxiety or nerves about our wedding. I feel happy and blissed out to the max. Like, being engaged is just the greatest feeling ever. It’s all the anticipation of being married, of having a husband, of making a family and it reminds me of the weeks leading up to Christmas. As a kid, Christmas Eve was always my favorite because I would feel so sad and depressed and nostalgic come Christmas Day (seriously around 3pm on Christmas Day, I still get all sad and bummed out). Like, all this work and anticipation and excitement is just over in one day.

But the really wonderful thing about marriage (or so I assume) is that yes, once the party’s over and the confetti has fallen out of our hair and we’re unpacking from the honeymoon and doing mountains of laundry, I will probably feel sad. I will probably wish I could buy just one more Martha Stewart Weddings or find another issue of Brides in the mailbox. I will probably wish I could still add pins to my wedding pinboard and I will probably wish I could dance to Frank Sinatra under the stars again, but I will be married. I will have said vows to the most wonderful man, the father of my two darling stepchildren, the perfect guy for me and I will feel elated. Elated that I have promised God to cherish this man for the rest of my life and, let’s be honest, elated that now I can switch out the wedding magazines for baby magazines.

I’m just so excited. I have a vision for our day (obviously) and I have specific things I want, but in the end, as long as I have David, the kids, our family/friends and some music, I will be so happy. SO happy.

SIX MONTHS! I can not believe it.

FOURTEEN HOURS! That’s how long I have to go without a sister-in-law. I can not believe it.

I’ve had an online journal since I was fourteen and about seventy four since then. I’ve always thought it’d be nice to have one journal for like decades and decades to rifle through, but the truth is I’m just not that kind of girl. At home, I have stacks of notebooks and journals and diaries and pads of paper with notes and doodles and stories and quotes and memories scribbled on every square inch. I have parts of my life all over the internet and while it feels a bit disorganized, it feels right.

Plus all of my entries on this journal were unfortunately deleted…

So here we go! Number 230,482.