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Almost exactly twelve years ago I was moving with my parents to a new town.  It was the summer before my senior year and I agreed to pick up and move two weeks before the beginning of my last year in high school.  I was finally going to be a senior at the high school I had grown up in.  I had been waiting for this day for YEARS!  I loved my friends and my school.  My parents certainly would have understood if I had said no.  They would have found a way to let me stay behind and finish with my friends, or they would’ve passed up on the opportunities they had waited 20 years to come along (If I haven’t mentioned this yet, I have amazing parents who really would do anything for anyone of us).  Even with all of those reasons, all of the outs I could have taken, and all the chances they gave me to stay, something urged me to go.  I can’t explain it to you now.  It was one of the easiest decisions I have ever made.  That doesn’t mean it wasn’t difficult to leave, I was wrecked with the heaviness of one hundred goodbyes.  At no point, however, did I waiver on my choice.   

If you had asked me on that day if I thought I was about to meet the man I would fall in love with, marry, (and twelve years later) be expecting my first child with, I would have laughed.  If you had told me that one day I would make this place MY home, that my husband and I would plant seeds and grow roots here so deep that we could not imagine life anywhere else, I certainly would not have believed it.  The tri-cities was NOT my home.  Yakima was NOT my home.  The move from one to the next was just the first step out the door and into the real world.  I wanted to be on my own, far away, and free.  

Typical baby in the family, I was just dying to grow up.

This isn’t a small town but there is a slow peace to life here.  The home we live in is our home, built the year we were married.  Some people find the fanciest hotel room in town for their wedding night, but we wanted to go home together.  So we did.  We were a new family in our new home on the day of our wedding.  The significance of that choice sinks in more and more these days.  Soon our family will change again.  We will be bringing home another new DoValle.  Up those same steps, through that same door, and into our home and it will be his first home as well.  During these warm summer evenings, I sit on the couch reading through my maternity books and looking at my two handsome men (Ricardo and Poncy, of course) and I feel the kind of freedom I used to dream of when I first moved to this town.  Ricardo and I have already shared so many adventures together both here in our home town and traveling all over.  It is with so much joy that we anticipate the next adventure in our lives together.  

Wishing each of you a long, lazy, lingering end to a beautiful summer. . .

Happy Summer!

I hope you are all enjoying your summer as much as we are!  Here are a few updates on our happenings...

First, our happy little jumping bean is a BOY!  Like the DoValle's don't already have enough of THOSE, right?!  Of course, had it gone the other way the same could be said for the Ebys.  :)  We would've been thrilled either way, but we are SO glad to finally know what this little acrobat is so we can start planning AND picking a name.  And if I haven't dropped enough hints yet, let me spell it out for you - This kid is a MOVER!  He tosses and turns, kicks and flips, day and night.  He is blessedly small right now, so it's more of a joy than a pain for me but I know those days are coming.  So here are some stats on the little man.  He is about one foot in length and around 8 ounces which puts him in the 60th percentile.  At our gender ultrasound the technician said his brain, lungs, heart, and everything else look perfect and he is doing very well.  She even said he has the cutest face she's seen, but I suspect she tells all the moms and dads that.  So here is our little man...

18 weeks

18 weeks 3D :P

Ricardo and I also took a few trips at the beginning of the summer.  First, we flew down to Hawaii (the big island) for a MUCH NEEDED vacation.  The intention was to celebrate my graduation with a good helping of mai tais, but alas.  :)  We turned it in to a fabulous babymoon instead.  Then Ricardo took a trip with his friends to New Orleans while I went to Las Vegas with my parents and Kristin.  We had a great time!! Pics to come, some day.  We also sold my Bug!  :(  Tough day for me, but I REALLY love my new baby friendly mom-mobile!  Other than that, we've been going through the house room by room purging ourselves of the clutter we've built up over the years in order to make room for baby boy DoValle.  We've got the crib built and in place as well as the dresser/changing table but there is still a lot of work to do before that room can really be called a nursery.

I'm feeling great but getting BIG.  I feel like this baby sprouted overnight. Sleep is getting to be a bit challenging but so far this has been such an easy pregnancy I just can't complain.  We are enjoying each stage of expecting, all while looking forward to meeting this little man.  I have to say, we are also looking forward to another Husky football season.  I will be at every game as long as this body and baby will allow.  :)

12 weeks pregnant

18 weeks pregnant

My boys <3

As always, we are looking forward to another fall season!  Many blessings!

The plus side.

(Written the week after Easter Sunday)

Last week did NOT start off well for me, however the weekend ended beautifully. We had an amazing Easter Sunday with our families. I love all the traditions that we share but mostly I just love experiencing holidays with Ricardo.

Unfortunately, I got hit HARD with a cold at the beginning of the week. As busy as my school and work weeks usually are, this was really poor timing. THEN my work computer was compromised and our Help Desk had to drop my network connection and take my desktop to be completely wiped and restored. It never comes back the same. This all happened the day before PACQ, the system I do 90% of my work in, was to be pulled off the network for updating. So yesterday, I was in an all out requisition BLITZ and I ended up turning 13 purchase requisitions around in one day. No small feat in my world. Nothing too exciting for yours, I'm afraid. :)

But, on the plus side...

The Bombers are doing incredibly well. They finished out their season undefeated at home and at the top of the pack in their conference. They also won the District Championship in an NAIL biter.  At the all-conference meeting six of our guys received 1st Team All-Conference awards, two of them received 2nd Team All-Conference awards, AND Eric Thomas was voted League MVP AND Octavio (Ricardo's Dad) received the Coach of the Year award.  Pretty amazing.  Not a group of guys out there that deserves it more, either.  This team has that something that coaches DREAM about and it truly makes this a beautiful game.

Also on the plus side...

Graduation is just ?? short days, and 20 LONG pages of a research project, away. I am SO ready for this day to come. I can't wait to have that degree in hand and be moving forward with my career an my life! The next day we will be on our way, first class style, to Hawaii for a much anticipated vacation together.

FINALLY, on the plus side...

Wait...

Have you ever seen what the plus side looks like?

Did you know there is an actual IMAGE of what the plus side looks like?

I'm going to show you.



+...



+...



 Ricardo

+

Trish



Ricardo

Trish



:)



Want to see the WHOLE plus side?

Had you guessed it?  WE HADN'T! 

We are indeed!

Updated May 25th!

We just finished up our fist visit with Dr. Bahnmiller.  We got to see baby, hear baby's heart beat, and we found out that this little lady/little man will be gracing us with her/his blessed presence THIS YEAR!

Introducing Baby DoValle!

Why I fly.

On the second night of our European Vacation Ricardo and I were laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. Our eyes were wide, our hearts were racing, and for two completely different reasons the walls were closing in. Here we were in the middle of our dream vacation and fear and anxiety were the only emotions either of us could wrap ourselves around.

Now, it is neither my place nor my business to tell you what my husband was struggling with, but I will tell you it was winning.

I had been dreaming of Europe all my life and of this trip specifically for the past year, but in the weeks before the trip, I felt the fear start to grip me. All this hype just to tell you this:

I am TERRIFIED to fly. (Anti-climatic?!)

I will never forget what one co-worker said to me when I told her about my fear. And told her. And told her. (I can always count on Sharon for a "suck-it-up-sister" lecture!)

Here is what she said to me: "So WHAT?"

(beg pardon?)

"Are you not going to go? Are you never going to go anywhere because you are too afraid to get there?"

Her point was, and is, simple. You may get on that plane and it may crash before you ever get there, but you can't NOT live because you're afraid to die. You're going to die, no matter what. Her wisdom was enough to push me on to that plane. When we landed I learned that another plane had gone into the Atlantic and the fear crept back in. The rational person in me knows that how, when, and from what I die is completely out of my control. And that death is the only thing this life can guarantee us.

A friend once told me that there are two types of worry; worrying about the things you can control and worrying about the things you can't. But there is no sense in worrying about the things you can control because it's within your power to change them, and there is no sense in worrying about the things you can't control because there is nothing you can do about them. Truthfully, I spend too much time worrying about the latter. Fear of flying itself i really just a fear of the lack of control. Surprising how often CONTROL is the root of a problem.

If we let them, the things we fear will control our lives. Some people call that fear the devil creeping in. I don't know what I call it, but I DON'T call it living. Just over a year ago all I could think about was what could happen to me, to us, if we got on that plane. Now I can't imagine not having taken that trip.

I cannot stress this point enough... I love my husband. I love him 40,000 feet over the Atlantic, sick in Heathrow terminal, solemn in the presence of the most awe-inspiring Christian art the world holds. I love his quietness and his childlike joy. I love that he is a rational, logical man who loves God and needs no further proof that He is real.

Does this relate to my fear of flying? Absolutely.

I get on the plane to see what my husband looks like in Rome. To see what he finds thrilling in this world. What moves him. I get on the plane so I can kiss him under the Eiffel Tower, have cappuccinos with him on a train ride through Switzerland, and stand in awe with him at the altar in St. Peter's Basilica. I get on the plane to walk the streets of Paris and talk about what it might be like to live there together. I get on the plane to lay awake at night with a person that I know will always comfort me in my fears and encourage me in my dreams, and who is never afraid to share either of his with me. I get on the plane because there is nowhere else in this world I would rather be than right where he is.

And I will NEVER let fear of a silly thing - dying in a horrific plane crash - stop me from enjoying every second of living with that kind of love.

Wishing each of you all the love your heart can hold,

Trish

Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...

I was an above average softball player. Not Olympic caliber, but Division I scholarship caliber. I was a pitcher, a slapper, and a good teammate, and (I think) a pretty good leader. There were probably only a handful of teammates who didn't care for me. I had no patience for laziness and complaining, and I didn't hold my tongue when I felt someone was being either. There were two coaches who hated me. One had no power over me, the other I granted extensive power.



I needn't explain that the only power a person has over you is exactly the amount of power that you give them.



But this story isn't about her, it's about me. I wanted everyone to believe that I was having the time of my life - in truth, I was barely sleeping. I wanted my parents, who were 2000 miles away, to believe thier daughter was in good hands - in truth, I could barely speak to them, afraid that, in a moment of weakness, would tell them what was really happening to me. The times I would speak to them I would lie, lie, lie. Deny, deny, deny. When I would hang up the phone I would cry like a baby. I wanted desperately for them to swoop in and rescue me.



I have this irrational desire to wrap my life up in pretty boxes with bows. Every piece of it. Even the ugly parts. I want everyone to look at each package of my life and say, "How pretty! How perfect! How clever!" I care far too much about how others perceive me, and my life. It is VANITY, friends. Pure and simple, ugly and sad. Vanity masking insecurity , of course. Always.



And you know what? We will always be judged. Always.



By our loved ones, by our enemies, by ourselves. We WILL be judged. And we will fail. We will fail each other. Fail to live up to the expectations. Fail to reach deadlines. Fail to quiet the gossip. We will fail to be the best version of ourselves. Quitting the softball team felt like a failure to me. Even with my parents' full support. Sometimes even now it feels like a failure. It was also, oddly enough, one of the prouder moments of my life. I had spent months twisting myself into a snivelling, cowering shadow of my mother's daughter. I don't think my family would've recognized me. I certainly didn't.



The night before I quit the team I had many visitors. The entire team then just the team captain, all wishing I would stay, all understanding that I needed to leave, all loving me through whatever choice I made. Late in the night came one last timid knock at my door. It was our assistant coach.



She was in tears.



We had a long conversation that night. The bottom line was this. She took full responsibility for what had happened to me. She said that she should've protected me, but was afraid. So she chose to protect herself instead of standing up for me. She told me that leaving was the best thing for me, and that she would be by my side when the time came to tell the coach. Then she asked for my forgiveness. I can't remember very many interactions with the head coach Judy Favor, but I remember our assistant coach clearly. I felt strengthened by the love and support I had received. And the next day when I finally faced our coach she sat by my side, as promised.



She pleaded with me to stay.
When that didn't work, she told me the team would hate me for leaving.
When that didn't work, she insulted my ability as an athlete.
When that didn't work, she insulted my parents.
That didn't work either. :)



That day, I put that woman in her place. 6 months later, Wichita State University kicked her out of their place.



The lessons we learn in life don't often come out of our successes. When life goes as planned, there is little reason for reflection. We are enriched and humbled in our failures, just as we are encouraged and motivated in our successes. The people who love us love the ugly, broken pieces just as much as the pretty boxes and ornate bows. The people who don't love us, don't know us. And they will always find ways to cut us down and talk about our failures.



As my dear friend, and by friend I mean we don't actually know each other, Angie Smith puts it:



"We are supposed to be a city on a hill, friends. And snuffing out other people's lights only serves to dim the whole town."



May all of our lights shine bright!

He was there...

When I was young, I often imagined my wedding. I imagined the flowers, the dress, my dad offering his arm - calm, cool, and collected as ever (no small feat for a man living in a house of women), I imagined my mom at the end of that long, petal (or in my case - leaf) covered aisle smiling at me with tears in her eyes, and my sisters just beyond her grinning back at me. Seldom, however, did I imagine the man who would be standing opposite my sisters. He was always a blur, a stranger even when I would dream of the day.

I don't remember the exact moment I met Ricardo, I wish I could! I was a new student at a large school and probably met 50 people that day. I just remember knowing him. He was there, a smiling familiar face in a hallway full of strangers. He was there, waiting on a bench for me after school. He was there, picking me up for our Slurpee runs. He was there, four sleeping bags away at a Senior sleepover. He was there, by my side throughout our Senior party. It wasn't love at first sight, "but it was something" as Ricardo puts it. Something kept us together, kept us in each other's lives through the time and miles and changes that the next few years would present.

I always love telling the story of the first time my mom met Ricardo. We were still in high school and he came to the house with a group of people to pick me up. Once everyone had come in to meet my family, they all loaded back up in their car and waited for me to say goodbye to my parents. Before I could say a word my mother said these exact words to me, "Oh my gosh, he is just the all-American boy, isn't he? You are going to marry that boy one day!" I'm sure I brushed her off. I actually had forgotten all about it until, on a particularly emotional day I cried to my mom about how sad I was that my grandma never got to meet Ricardo. She reminded me of that day because my Grandma had been sitting by her side smiling at me as my mother teased me about my future husband. It was a collision of past, present, and future that I would not learn to appreciate for a few years. Now, it is a most cherished memory.

I have a point. I think.

Fantasizing about my wedding was a joy to me. If I had known what I know now, I would've spent so much more time daydreaming about the days after the wedding. The days of marriage are what I have learned to cherish. Marriage, my friends, makes wedding planning sound like torture! Ricardo and I were lucky enough to be involved in something called Engaged Encounter. The concept of Engaged Encounter is for engaged couples to take a weekend away from wedding planning in order to spend some time marriage planning. DUH, right? It seems simple, but it was so easy to get wrapped up in the music and the dress and the flowers, it's easy to see the groom starting to blur a little.

The experience of Engaged Encounter did two AMAZING things for me. To me, faith is the most intimate thing you can share with a person. My faith, and my husband's faith, are paramount to our story. I read somewhere that the greatest love story ever told, is your own. And our God has been intricately interwoven into our story. On the day that it all nearly came apart, He was there. On the day Ricardo asked me to spend my life with him, He was there. And on the day where I held my future husband's hands, with twenty other tearful couples holding on to each other in a candle-lit room, and swore to him that I would always be his and that we would always be a marriage of three, He was there.

The second blessing came to me more subtly. The days that followed brought on new daydreams of our wedding day, not unlike the ones when I was a little girl. Only this time, I could see the dresses my sisters wore as they waited for me, I could see the sunset calla lilies in my bouquet and the one pinned to my dad's lapel. I could see the leaves gathered around the pews in the old St. Joe's Chapel.

This time, when I looked up, past my mom and my sisters, he was there.

And so was He.

Ahhh... Fall!

As many of you already know, this is my very favorite time of year. The colors, the smells, the weather, the food, the clothes, and the FOOTBALL! It definitely makes saying farewell to summer easy on me!

OK, let's take it from the top...

HUSKIES! Finally got that monkey off of our backs. Some of you may not know this, but Ricardo and I are going on our second season as season ticket holders. We have fabulous seats and so far this season has been far and away more fun than the 2008 season. I needn't explain why (OH, and thanks for nothin' TY!). I cannot even describe how excited we were for the Dawgs in those final seconds against USC, it is a feeling I will never forget, and it was another incredible experience that we got to share with each other. AND Ricardo was clever enough to capture the last two kicks of the game on his iPhone, as soon as I get my hands on it I will share with you all. Enjoy, you KNOW we did!

So far we have no plans to miss a single home game, add that to another Clifford family vacation in November and we are a busy family. However, Ricardo was able to secure two Row 6 seats to see Jay-Z at Key Arena on October 17th and we were THRILLED! We had an incredible time!

Speaking of busy, PHEW! Ricardo has healed up so well from his surgery, which is a very good thing because he has been running NON-STOP! He seems to be having a great deal of success and is learning so quickly. He also ended up first in his class after the week he spent in Warsaw, IN. So the pressure is on for his trip back to Warsaw this week. I have somehow survived yet another federal government fiscal year-end. at PNNL. And, of course, school started back up the last week of processing for FY09 (which I lovingly call "Hell week"). I'm taking full loads from here until I have completed my BAS degree. So I am out of the house everyday from 7 am - 7:30 pm. It can be very exhausting and overwhelming but I have the most supportive husband in the world, and couldn't do it without his support. I'm 2/3rds through this quarter and hanging on for dear life!

On a personal note, my most favorite thing about fall is the weather, especially when it gets cold and dark early. It forces us all indoors and back into the constant company of those we love the most. I cherish the early evenings on the couch with my little family, daydreaming about the vacations to come and of course plotting and planning for the day when we will be ready to start planning for our first child. And last, on that note, I want to extend a most excited CONGRATULATIONS to Randi and Tony Butorac. They welcomed their first son, Luca Leon Butorac on November 2nd at 9:27 pm. He is beautiful, weighing 8lbs 4oz, and measuring 20 inches long. We couldn't be happier for them!

The DoValles would like to wish you all a blessed and beautiful fall season!