He's mine, ladies!

Well, it's official.

I'm now Mrs. Brittany Hotchkiss (not legally yet), which makes me sound ultra British and will also make me much easier to track down on Facebook once I get around to changing my name.

Almost two weeks later, I'm still trying to recover from the whirlwind of our wedding weekend. If I received one piece of advice from anyone who has been married before, it was to slow down and soak in the moment because it would fly by. There's a reason why everyone warns you of this - it's so painfully true. One second, I was riding in the passenger seat of Wheat's car on the way to Ohio and the next, I was unpacking back in Indianapolis.

This is the first of many wedding-related posts to come, but I wanted to get a couple quick thoughts out in the best way my disjointed, still-recovering, likely-still-fighting-a-sinus-infection brain knows how - bullet points:

- Wheat and I are ridiculously lucky to have such incredible family and friends. I'm honestly blown away by how many people traveled from all over the country to share our special day with us. People I've known all my life and people I've never met before. They danced with us, cried with us, laughed with us, prayed with us, and as a result, made us feel like the luckiest people in the world. Don't even get me started on the meaningful cards and generous gifts we received. Guilt overload.

- I'm so in love with my husband it hurts, but guess what? I already was. Throughout the last week, I've been asked countless times how married life has been so far and I've given the same response every time, "The same as before." I've actually started wondering if maybe Wheat and I missed out on some magical overnight transformation and we're the weird ones, but really - it's been the same. We're still head-over-heels in love with each other, we still argue over what to eat for dinner, and we still watch way too many hours' worth of reality singing competitions. We're just doing it with slightly heavier left hands.

- Overall, everything went really well. If you read my previous post, you probably surmised that I was just a little nervous about the finer details of the day. Aside from a few slight miscues (forgetting my dress at home, rain during outdoor pictures, the bus driver stranding us at aforementioned outdoor pictures, flowers being nothing like the ones we ordered, etc.), things went smoothly and I can honestly say I had a wonderful time. In full disclosure, I had a full-on meltdown approximately 20 minutes before the ceremony started (not out of nerves, but out of overwhelming emotion and frustration) and the only person able to coax me out of the bathroom was my brother. How'd he do it, you ask? He told me the first words out of a distant relative's mouth when he saw him for the first time in almost ten years were, "You've gained weight!" Cracked me up immediately.

Ultimately, the entire weekend felt like a dream - a dream filled with loving faces, lots of happy tears, hugs and kisses, cake, and, of course, the "Wobble." My biggest regrets? Not hiring a videographer (I already want to relive the weekend in its entirety) and not dancing more. I don't know how you're supposed to spend time with all of your guests while also eating dinner and enjoying the dance floor. I do know, however, that this was my best Halloween costume to date:

A letter to Wheat

To Wheat on the night before we're married,

I'd like to tell you that I'm calm, collected, and excited about tomorrow's events, but you know me better than that. You know I'm freaking out inside - about little details, things we might have forgotten, chances of rain, and people who might not show up. I'm freaking out about falling during the Cha Cha Slide, crying too hard during our vows, and not having a conversation with every single one of our guests. I'm freaking out about wearing a dress all day, not stopping to soak in the moment enough, forgetting one of your relatives' names, and passing out during the ceremony. As you probably imagined, I'm freaking out about all the uncertainties, but there is one thing I'm sure of...

...and that thing is you.

Ever since I met you, you have been the one sure thing in my life. You make me laugh, push me to be a better version of myself, and make every moment I'm with you infinitely better than it would be otherwise. You've comforted me in the hard times and carried me through my grief when I couldn't walk the path alone. You laugh with me, cry with me, pray with me, dance with me, read with me, sing with me, cheer with me, and play with me. You simultaneously lift me up while keeping me grounded. You're the best part of my day and the thing I miss most the instant we part. You're the reason I love looking back, but more importantly, you're the reason I'm excited to move forward.

When I moved to Indianapolis for sports journalism graduate school, I thought I'd become a writer. I thought I'd leave a year later with a master's degree, some new friends, and a hockey writing gig. Instead, I found you, something far better than any job I could ever dream to find.

At a point that was probably far too early in our relationship for me to be saying creepy things like this, I told you that I felt like I wrote you. You seemed too good to be true - too funny, too smart, too handsome, too sweet, too romantic, too kind-hearted to be in love with me. I felt like I conjured you up in my mind, put pen to paper, and willed you into existence. But instead of being afraid that I'd lose you (which I imagined would be my subconscious natural state throughout our relationship), I felt sure. Sure that you weren't ever going away, sure that we met for a reason, and sure that I would spend the rest of my life loving you completely.

So, I transitioned from writing you to writing with you, which I assure you has been much more fun. Although the last three years have been the hardest of my life, they've also been the best, simply because you held my hand through them. You've cared for me when I was sick, wiped away my tears, put up with my celebrity crushes, slow-danced with me in the living room, introduced me to so many new, awesome things, and shown me the real definition of man meat. I can't wait to write the rest of our lives together.

You are, bar none, the best thing that's ever happened to me. I couldn't be more proud to be marrying you tomorrow.

I love you, baby bear.

- Britter

Cheers to Sears!

There may be flurries of snow falling outside, but my heart is still overflowing with enough hometown love from this weekend to keep me satisfied. Why, you ask? Because my best friend, the Bert to my Ernie, my self-proclaimed heterosexual life partner, got engaged on Saturday afternoon! The proposal had been in the secret works for a couple months (I somehow kept my mouth sealed!) and I can honestly say the day went off without a hitch.

I met her fiance, Paul, and his daughter at Party City on Friday to pick out some pink decorations before rushing to rendezvous with my parents at the local movie theater for salty popcorn and Insurgent. In full disclosure, I preferred the popcorn to the movie, but I should say that I didn't really like the books, either. Miles Teller and Theo James, on the other hand, are something I can enjoy.

After the movie, my mom and I picked up a couple cakes for the party before indulging in a delicious home-cooked steak and potatoes dinner with Dad, LP, and Elizabeth. Even though we followed dinner with my least favorite game in the history of games (Yahtzee) and my sister was still firmly planted in Arizona, it was so nice to spend some quality time with my family. The good times continued when Emma came over for wedding talk, general girly gossip, and red velvet cake.

The next afternoon, we set out for the local bar, Ole Friends, to decorate for the big proposal. I should take a second to explain Ole Friends for those who don't live in the area. First of all, you should notice the spelling of 'Old' as 'Ole.' That should tip you off immediately as to the clientele and general vibe of the place. There are cornhole boards outside, country music is constantly blaring on the jukebox, and you get the townie picture, right? Well, Jenn happens to love Ole Friends. In fact, she may be the only girl her age who does.

So, Paul expertly picked that as the location for the event and invited friends and family. Somehow, she was incredibly surprised when she strolled through the door and instantly burst into tears when she turned around to find Paul down on one knee. Mission accomplished. I may have been shaking and sobbing while filming the proposal, but it'll have to do.


Fortunately, she thought she was attending a co-worker's baby shower that day, so she was already dressed for the occasion. Note: The aforementioned co-worker called and 'canceled' the shower that morning. Paul had already scheduled to meet Alex at Ole Friends while she was at the baby shower, so when plans were canceled, she joined him, instead.

A couple hours were spent at the bar, sacrificing dollars to the jukebox (what kind of jukebox charges $1 per song?!), catching up with loved ones and missing those who couldn't make it, eating cake, and watching college basketball. The weather was perfect and so was the company and I'm still getting all warm and fuzzy when I think about it.

From Ole Friends, Alex and I hopped over to Gold Star for that delicious Cincinnati chili that I miss so much. We ate it at my house and Alex played pool with LP before we headed over to Jenn's parents' place for a glorious bonfire. Needless to say, I was brimming with hometown love as I caught up with some of my favorite people in one of my favorite places.

I'm still grumpy that I had to trade friends, family, good food, and beautiful weather for visits to the doctor, snow flurries, grey skies, and work all week, but hey - let's focus on the good, shall we? I'm ecstatic for you, Jenn and Paul. You deserve all the happiness in the world and you've certainly found it in each other.

I love you both and can't wait for the planning and festivities!

My Sure Thing

After years of tears and complaints to my best friend, the moment I worried would never happen to me actually happened on New Year's Eve. In short, I'm engaged!

Over the course of middle school, high school, and college, I muttered the phrase, "I'm going to die alone" more times than I care to admit. Sometimes, it was spoken in the confines of my room, broken up by sobs and sniffles. Other times, it was followed by a short chuckle in an effort to disguise the actual fear in my voice.

I'm not exaggerating when I say this: I never thought I'd find someone who wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. Unlike other girls who daydream about the design of their wedding dress or the color of the flowers at their reception, I spent my nights wondering if that day would come, not when or how.

When I met Wheat, it took me five weeks to realize I wanted to marry him. Five whole weeks. It took considerably longer than that to convince him to take me on a date. However, my persistence paid off and a couple months after that first date, he told me he loved me and I actually felt the true weight of his words.

...and I know this probably sounds strange, but I knew from that moment that we would be married. I'm not a believer in soul mates, but I do know that Wheat and I are better together. We push each other to be the best versions of ourselves and we fit perfectly together when we cuddle or slow dance in the living room. Moments that I would have previously deemed unbearable became tolerable, simply because he was holding my hand. Choosing to hold his hand for the rest of my life was the easiest decision I've ever made.

On New Year's Eve, when he came home from his game with a dozen roses, I didn't think anything of it because that is typical behavior for Wheat. I got off the phone with my Nana, who I called to wish a happy anniversary, even though my Grandad passed away seven years ago. He sat me down on the couch, held my hands, and told me that he didn't want me to remember 2014 as the year my mom got cancer. He wanted me to remember it as the year she beat cancer and the year we got engaged.

And just like that he was on his knee, asking me to marry him. Although I knew it was coming at some point, I melted into a sobbing mess. In my emotional explosion, I forgot to answer him and opted instead with a hug. He asked if that meant yes. I exclaimed, "Of course!" then nervously asked if he was sure (as you can see, I still struggle with confidence issues). As I continued to gasp for breath, he reminded me that he was, in fact, holding an engagement ring, something that had until then gone completely unnoticed by me. Though I've told him time and time again that I hate jewelry, the ring he held was perfect - simple, elegant, and beautiful (in his words, just like me) - proving yet again that he probably knows me better than I know myself.

After informing our immediate family, we spent the rest of the night like a typical New Year's Eve. We met Manny and Elizabeth at Bourbon Street, our local haunt, for dinner. We sang along to '90s songs on the jukebox and toasted to each other at midnight. Back home, we split a bottle of wine, cuddled together on the couch, and fell asleep in a bizarre combination of giddiness and absolute peace. Fittingly, that's exactly how I'd describe my life with Wheat so far - unbelievably exciting, but also my one sure thing.

Mush Sesh.

Just under two years ago, the guy sitting across from me in my graduate school classroom made me laugh with a witty comment. After that, I found myself paying closer attention to him, laughing at his awesome humor and slowly realizing how smart he was.

A couple weeks later, I caught myself staring at him and thought, "Man, he's cute."

A few months later, I did absolutely everything in my power to spend more time with him. I practically begged my friends to hang out after class so I had an excuse to see him, to learn more about him. I never thought I'd shake my homesickness after moving to Indianapolis, but visits to Lebanon were fewer and farther between as we started to spend weekends together.

A year ago, when that handsome guy in class started to like me back, I worried that he wouldn't stick around - that he'd leave me for a better job, a better girl. I couldn't believe someone like him would go for someone like me and I was impressed with my ability to reel in such a catch, even if only for a short while. I ultimately decided that the universe was temporarily rewarding me for some good deed I had done in the past.

Seven months ago, as my parents helped me pack and move my things into his apartment, I felt happier than I have ever felt in my life. I was sad to leave my old apartment, but I was so excited to start a life together in the first place we could call 'ours.'

Two months ago, my state of unshakable happiness was abruptly destroyed when my mom was diagnosed with cancer. At the risk of sounding cliche, my entire world came to a halt as I struggled to deal with my new normal. I knew he loved me during my good times, but worried that he wouldn't be able to handle my bad.

Sunday night, when I came home from what felt like my millionth trip home in the last couple months, I walked in to find an immaculately clean apartment, purple tulips on the bed, and him, smiling that same gorgeous smile that won me over in class.

Yesterday, as I laid on the couch, alternately crying because of the situation with my mom and the miserable stomach bug I caught over the weekend, he came home early from work with red Gatorade. He laid next to me on the couch, wiped my tears away, stroked my cheek, and told me I look cute in shorts.

Today, I know that he's it for me. In complete honesty, I would have told you he was 'the one' a year ago. But today, I know that we're it for each other. No matter what happens, no matter how hard life gets, he will be there, making me laugh, teaching me something, or simply holding my hand...and that thought brings me more comfort than he could ever know.

Why this chubby little girl won.

I've always struggled with my weight.

It didn't really affect me until middle school. Suddenly, I went from the chubby little girl that loved to read to the big, fat target in the hallway. I was made fun of by kids who probably didn't receive the right kind of love at home and definitely didn't know the weight of their words. I would spend hours at home, crying and writing little seventh-grade poems about acceptance, kindness, and love. I would devise and try to enact weight loss plans, but they never made a noticeable difference, I would get discouraged, and ultimately, give up. Mostly, I would worry that my weight would stand in the way of me finding love.

I watched as all the other girls went from boyfriend to boyfriend, told stories about making out at so-and-so's party, yet avoided all contact with their latest "boyfriend" at the dance. I had my secret crushes, usually became good friends with them, and often provided them with advice to get the girl of their dreams.

These feelings of insecurity continued into high school and college. The cycle repeated itself: insecurities, unrequited feelings, tears of unintentional rejection, and concerns that I'd always be alone. Inevitably, I became more comfortable in my own skin. I wouldn't say comfortable, I would say accustomed to my own skin. I was never comfortable with my weight.

I'm still not.

In fact, I think about it every single day. On my way to the gym, in the kitchen as I make myself lunch, at the store when I search for clothes that actually look like someone my age would wear them, it haunts me. It's something I'm constantly working on, but something I've almost come to accept.

This is me, all of me. I'm a 'big girl' and although I'll never be happy about it, I'm starting to be okay with it.

Last night, I was talking to Wheat about getting made fun of in middle school. I told him that a boy in my grade used to chant, "Brittany J., Brittany J., you're so fat you're in my way." I can still imagine exactly how he sounded when he said it and how he and his friends would laugh as they passed me.

I knew Wheat would sympathize with me. I knew he'd kiss my cheek, hold my hand, and tell me, "They were just stupid little boys."

But he didn't.

He got angry. He looked upset, almost to the point of tears. He crashed his fists down on the bed and asked, "Why would he say that? Why would he say that to someone so beautiful?"

...and I started crying. I started crying because I found someone who thinks I'm beautiful, no matter how much I weigh. I found someone who loves me so much that he wanted to punch a little kid for making me cry fourteen years ago. I found someone who sees beyond my pant size, someone who loves me for my heart and my mind, someone who defies every stereotype of what a young man supposedly wants in a partner. I found someone whose love is slowly (ever so slowly, despite my frequent setbacks) soothing my insecurities and making me feel beautiful and confident.

...and I started crying because the 12-year-old version of me wasted a lot of tears, thinking she'd end up alone.

Happy Thoughts Thursday

Last week, I shared a list of things that have made me smile lately. I've decided to make that a regular occurrence around here. I like happy thoughts and want to hear yours, too.

So, without further ado, here is what's making me smile this week:

- Visitors! I had my first visitors in the new apartment this weekend! Emma from Legally Lovely and her boyfriend came to town to tour the Children's Museum and spent the evening with me. Unfortunately, it was raining, so we had a pretty low-key night. We spent an embarrassing amount of time in Mass Ave Toys, had dinner at Bru Burger, and watched Saturday Night Live (in case Miley Cyrus did something unforgivable on live television - she didn't). As always, it was so great to spend time with them, but it went by way too fast. Jenn is finally visiting on Tuesday and I can't wait!

- Sports. After the shortest off-season ever, the NHL is back and my beloved Penguins are 3-0. By some act of divine intervention, the Bengals actually beat the Patriots on Sunday, breaking Tom Brady's 52-game streak with a touchdown pass in the process. Amazing.

- Flowers. Wheat buys me 'just because' flowers all the time. Seriously, when one bouquet dies, another is on its way. They brighten the entire room and whenever I look at them, I'm reminded how lucky I am to have him in my life.

No pressure, Wheat. You can stop whenever you want.

- Pomegranate. At Wheat's insistence, I tried it for the first time last night and it's delicious.

- Brand 47. Julie at The Smitten Mintons and her husband Doug introduced this company to me a couple months ago. Now, Wheat and I are hooked. You order a mystery team shirt or hat online and they send you a random one in the mail. I can't even explain how excited we get when opening the package. The first pair was a total disappointment - a Flyers hat and Yankees shirt. Yesterday, he opened his second one - a Bulls hat and Coyotes shirt - and we love it! We're trying to limit ourselves to once a month, but it's so addicting.

I'll support anything that gets him to wear an NHL shirt.

- "Tessellate" by alt-J. This song (and this awesome cover by Ellie Goulding) has been on repeat all week.



What's making you smile this week?