Thursday, December 30, 2010

One More for Love The Story: Chapter 6 - Tornado

I arrived at the track on base fifteen minutes early for my annual fitness assessment. It was early May. The temperature was in the mid 80’s and the wind was no more than a slow breeze. The conditions were perfect. All I had to do was go out there and perform. Sitting in my car with Eminem pumping through my speakers, I looked at the track and mentally went over my race.

My running background has always worked to my advantage in these types of military tests. Before I joined the Air Force, when I ran in college, I used to go to the track early and walk a lap visualizing every second of my event. I knew how fast I was going to take off when the starter shot the gun. I knew which way the wind was blowing so I could try to draft at certain points. I knew how to accelerate off the turn and when to try to maintain the pace I was already running. Today’s evaluation was a waist measurement, a minute of push-ups, a minute of sit-ups, and a mile and half run. I had been training for months. Between my weekend escapades, there were five other days I had been hitting the gym, running regularly, and eating a steady diet of chicken, beans and rice. I was zoned in and ready to make that test beg for mercy. Nothing could distract me from the task at hand.

As some of the other testers began to arrive, I gave myself one last pep talk, “leave it all on the track Steve” and headed toward the shade canopy the Physical Training Leaders (PTLs) had set up in the middle of the track. For privacy reasons, the canopy was set up with tarps secured to the sides so no one could see us lifting our shirts for the waist measurement. Standing outside the tent was a tall, slender man, holding a clipboard and pen, dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

“Name?” said the man as I approached the tent.

“Hart Stephen E” I said. But you can call me the track slayer, I thought to myself.

“Alright Hart, wait here outside the canopy until a male PTL is available to measure your waist.” He pointed to a spot next to two other guys who were waiting there as well. No big deal, spare the track a few extra minutes before it suffers the rapid ferocity of Steve “legs of track destruction” Hart.

“Name?” The slender man motioned for the person in line behind me to move forward.

Or the merciless wrath of Steve “I eat track for breakfast” Hart.

“Connors Janelle A” responded the woman who was next in line.

How about, Steve “track smack down” Hart?

“Ok, Connors, go see Airman Morey for your waist measurement.”

My heart pounded one big, hard thump, and then accelerated to what felt like twice my previous standing heart rate. She was here? Airman Morey was HERE? I instantly remembered that day on the truck with vivid clarity. I could see her smiling and laughing in the midst of conversation, her beautiful eyes proving her honest and true, and her fading out of sight as she walked up the stairs. I remembered the brief peace in my heart when I first saw her and the piece of my heart that left when she walked away.

“Airman Levi, you can go in, stay to the right and see Sergeant Simms.” Said the slender man as one person left the tent motioning for the next guy in line to go in to get his measurement.

Looking to my right, I realized, there was only one person and a blue tarp between her and I. My mind started racing. What did I do this morning? What do I smell like? Was this shirt clean or did I pick it out of the laundry? I shaved, I know I shaved. I inconspicuously rubbed the back of my hand on the side of my face. Yeah, I shaved. Breath check. What did I eat? I casually took a drink from my water bottle, swished it around in my mouth, and spit it on the grass. That should do the trick. Ok, if I see her what do I say?

“Airman Jones, you can go in, stay to the right and see Sergeant Simms.”

I was next. Think Steve, why didn’t you say anything last time? This is your place, the track is your domain, you can do this! I was right. If there was ever a place where I felt comfortable and confident talking to women, it was on the track. In an attempt to not make the same mistakes as the last time I saw her, I thought back through the series of events that transpired that day on the truck. I remembered feeling intimidated, trying (unsuccessfully) not to stare at her, and a conversation between Kevin and Selena as we drove away from the airplane…Then, like a brick hurled through a glass door, I remembered...she was married. In all of my excitement and the time I’d spent away in training, I had forgotten the most devastating part of my truck experience. The part where my body felt weak and my heart empty. The part where I felt like a fool for getting myself so worked up. The part that left me asking why my heart wants what it can’t have.

“Airman Hart, you can go in, stay to the right and see Sergeant Simms.”

Here we go. As I turned into the canopy, there was another tarp hanging from the ceiling that separated the male and female areas. I reported in to Sergeant Simms. While he was measuring my waist, I could hear a female voice giving some instruction to another female on the other side of the tarp. It was her. I recognized her sweet, upbeat tone right away. Even when giving directions, hearing her voice made me smile. It was comforting. When my measurement was finished, I left the canopy and waited by the starting line with the rest of the people who were finished with this part of the assessment.

There were about fifteen of us testing that day. We all stood in a gaggle by the starting line waiting for the PTL’s to emerge from the canopy and give us instructions for the next evaluation component. Some people were talking to each other about push-up strategies. Others were complaining about the testing policy. Some had head phones on and were getting themselves focused. I stood slightly outside the pack pretending to stretch and trying to wrap my mind around the unexpected climb and dive of my emotions. I hadn’t felt that since the last time I saw Airman Morey. There wasn’t a party in New Jersey or a bikini in Ocean City that came through me like a tornado; sweeping me off my feet and leaving me in shambles. Just the knowldege of her presence filled a void in me that a bite of the Big Apple or a drink with the Dover locals couldn’t even begin to satisfy.

The PTL’s were ready. Sergeant Simms stepped out from the canopy followed by the one and only Airman Morey. As she walked toward us in running shoes, green shorts and a black top, I turned to watch her walk our way. I couldn’t see the others, but I was sure they were mesmerized by her beauty in the same way that I was. Her toned, bronze legs stemmed from her shoes and seemed to go on forever before they met the bottom of her shorts. She was the perfect compromise of beauty and intelligence and walked toward us in a way that was not attention seeking, but confident. She gave us instructions in a professional and encouraging manner. It was as if she had no idea that she was the single most fascinating woman I’d ever seen. She didn’t know what I would give to meet a woman like her out there in the harsh, unforgiving, ruthless real world I had to take on every day.

After my test that day I made myself realize that I would never have her, but found relief knowing that there could be another woman like her out there. Once I was finished with my technical training, there was a good chance I would be working with her on the flightline and I couldn’t have my emotions going all cardiac arrest on me every time I saw her. I told myself it was good to have felt those feelings so I knew what love could feel like. That way, when I felt it again, I would know that girl was the one.

**Feel free to leave comments below and tune in Monday for Stacy's newest blog post and come back next Thursday for Chapter 7! 

Monday, December 27, 2010

Christmas Success!

Success when it comes to Christmas is measured in the following three ways: smiles, laughter, and tears of happiness. By that definition, my first Christmas as a family of three was successful. And because the majority of my day today was filled with multiple trips down to the trash and recycling cans and creating a new "Things to do" list, I have posted some clips of my wonderful Christmas.


Despite my knowledge of Addisyn's lack of desire for bright colorful toys, they were purchased anyway. We still had fun watching her play in the boxes and wrapping paper.


Oh, Look! I think she is interested in the actual gift :-)


This is the only hat Addisyn didn’t try to take off her head. It was a gift from Nana's coworker.



My mom didn't raise me to make a mess like this...even on Christmas!


After all the unwrapping, Addisyn was ready for a nap. Whenever she gets tired she starts sucking her fingers and rubbing her ear like this.


Here she is on Christmas Eve soothing herself...



but she doesn't care whose ear she rubs...she just wants to rub an ear.


She doesn't even need a human


Our dog,Pisces doesn't mind.


One thing that makes me smile every time we come to Virginia is my mom's decorations. She has every corner covered perfectly.



Ooooohhh...and tradition...Every year, we have "Pinch-Me" Cake on Christmas morning. Yummy!


And aren't we all dreaming of a white Christmas?



Even little Addisyn loved to watch the snow.



and I loved it too...


See you in 2011!



P.S. Be sure to tune in Thursday for Chapter six of our love story.

Sneak Peek

I was delighted when Sheri, (a friend from  high school) asked me several months ago to take two year pics of her little Audrey Cate. Thanks to facebook, I had been following the growth of Audrey Cate ever since her birth and enjoyed hearing about the joys of motherhood from Sheri's mommy blog.  More than that, Sheri was my "go-to" person the minute I found out I was having little miss Addisyn. We had several instant messenger chats about pregnancy and words of encouragement while I waited for my little girl to arrive. Sheri is by far, one of the most kind hearted people I have ever met. Although we had kept in touch over the past few years via facebook, this photo shoot would be my first opportunity to meet Audrey and her dad, Chris, face to face. I was excited because I knew this family was splitting at the seams with love...and I got to soak it all in on Audrey's two year birthday. Thank you to Sheri, Chris, and little Audrey Cate!

Please enjoy some sneak peeks!











Thursday, December 23, 2010

Be back next Thursday

I am giving Steve the night off 

because he deserves it
because this week has been absolute craziness
because I need some hubby time
because my family needs some Steve time ( lets face it...he is AWESOME)
because it is CHRISTMAS!

Chapter Six will be posted next Thursday! Enjoy your very wonderful Christmas weekend. Tune in Monday for a new blog post.

Monday, December 20, 2010

I be blogging

I first started this blog as a means of trying to bottle up all the love that was bursting from my soul. I needed a way to express everything or, at the very least, the most important things I was feeling as a new mother and as a wife. More than that, there was a yearning in my heart to write something profound about my passion for love and then to scream it from a mountain top for the world to hear. This presented a problem. My desire to first find and then climb a mountain was about as big as my desire to eat liver and onions… so I settled for my laptop, a cozy chair and my speedy typing skills as my vision for the blog unfolded.

There are millions of people out there who know how to love and I am willing to bet that 85.69% of them lead more interesting lives than me. So when I began to type the first words of my blog, I thought to myself, “who really cares about my life enough to read about it weekly?” My guess is probably around five people and one of them lives with me. I was looking at a grand total of four hits a week. You see, I lead an average life. I rock American Eagle and Kohl’s clothes, I fill up my gas tank rather than getting my hair dyed (not by choice) , and my idea of a hot date is opening our Netflix movie and eating sour patch kids on the couch. My life is simple and ordinary and yet I live in this wonderful bubble where the only thing that exists is love, unicorns, rainbows, and butterflies. I’m telling you all this because it is time to make a change and go back to the roots.

After the New Year, my blog is going to start morphing into something a little different … something that better showcases my photography, but focuses on love. Photography is a passion, but Love is the passion in my life. Photography does not define me, but Love does and I want to share more of it with you...Or should I say, my husband and I want to share it. I will continue blogging on Monday nights with photographs and links to the most recent photo shoots and Steve will continue writing our love story. It turns out that he likes this blogging thing almost as much as I do and he will likely be a more permanent blogger on “One More for Love” even after Our Love Story has been completed. I have learned so much already in the six months that I have had this blog. I hope to be able to share more about who I am with you, meet more of you on a personal level and build new relationships, and continue learning lessons as a new mom and photographer.

I be blogging!

With Love,

Stacy Hart

And it wouldn't be a blog post without a few pics....

Meet little Adalyn. Bundle of joy and don't you just want to kiss all over those cheeks? Thanks to my sister and new brother in law, I will be seeing a lot more of this little one.

Enjoy the last week before Christmas! Did I mention I love ornaments? Here is the most recent one...Thank you Corona family!

Thursday, December 16, 2010

One More for Love The Story: Chapter 5 - Rise and Fall

The police siege of the club across the street gave us little time to mingle with our three new friends. In the two minutes we spent talking, we found out that they were students at the University of Delaware, got their phone numbers, and then split. We drove home three phone numbers richer and with the ultimate “in” to future college parties.

The busier I was, the less time I had to think about consequences, moral dilemmas, or philosophical positions of my purpose in life. I kept my weeks packed with studying for class and working out at the gym; while on the weekend, Kevin, Smitty, and I were taking on the east coast with a fury. We would be in Atlantic City one weekend and in Ocean City, Maryland the next. We made our way into sophisticated clubs in New York City and fraternity blowouts at the University of Delaware. Our social network was spreading fast and before we knew it, we had people calling us to find out where to be and who was going to be there. From the outside, it seemed like everything was going great. I was popular, confident, and finally seeing some progress from all of my hard work at the gym. But, inside, I was aching, scared, and lonely.

When I was ten years old my grandmother handed me a small book with a hard cover filled with empty pages. When I asked her what it was for, she said it was whatever I wanted it to be. I could write about my day, compose a poem, or write out my feelings. It was a place where I could be completely honest or creative and never had to show it to anyone if I didn’t want to. On that day, in that book, I fell in love with journaling. I immediately sat down and wrote two poems. One was about children and the other was about a trampoline (ok, so I was no Poe, but cut me some slack. Trampolines are really inspirational to a ten year old boy). I couldn’t fill the book up fast enough. I started out writing poems and complaints about my sister which eventually progressed to feelings about relationships and thoughts about friends. I remember one summer in the fifth grade I dedicated half a journal to my girlfriend at the time who had promised to send me cards on her family vacation, but never did. At the end of the summer, I played “I Swear” by All 4 One on her answering machine…the whole song. When I saw her again on the first day of the sixth grade, she told me her dad didn’t want her seeing me anymore. I told her I was going to write about her in my journal and this time it wasn’t going to be nice.

As I got older, I learned not to use my journal as a tool for vengeance, but found comfort in having a place to honestly and openly release my thoughts and feelings. This passion for writing and expressing myself has stuck with me even today. If you were to open the second drawer on the left side of my desk right now, you would find four completed journals. And, if you opened the second drawer on the right, you would find five notebooks filled front to back with short stories, song lyrics, and free thoughts. At this present time, I am writing in a journal for Addy, a journal for my spiritual growth, and a notebook with a new song idea. Oh, and I’m writing this blog. It’s not hypergraphia, but let’s just say I like to write.

During the time in my life when I was partying every weekend, I still kept with my journaling; writing about once a month. Below is an actual excerpt from my journal at that time:


I feel like I haven’t been thinking lately. I used to be so good at evaluating situations. I wasn’t perfect by any means, but I used to try to think things through. Now, my life is definitely moving forward by way of my occupation, but I’m messing the rest of it all up. Partying, not being as social as I would like to be. I have such high expectations, but expect it to just fall right in my lap. I try to be everyone, but myself. I’m always putting on an act. I’m scared to death to open up to anyone any more. I need something to fill the void. There has been so much disappointment. I always convince myself to put my heart in these situations…disappointment.

Yep, inside I was torn. Journaling was the only time in which I could step outside of the worldly clutter I had buried myself in and take a look at what was really going on. Unfortunately for me, there is a distinct difference between knowing something isn’t right and making changes to fix it. As soon as the journal closed, I was out of line and back on the roller coaster. Hoping for a high rise, but preparing for fast fall.

** Thank you to all the people who entered the giveaway. Each comment was assigned a number and the winning number was randomly pulled. The winner for this giveaway is "Angela Cinaglia". Please email me at with your information. 

***Tune in Monday for Stacy's newest blog post and come back next Thursday for Chapter 6! 

Monday, December 13, 2010

S.A.H.M. Revival

It has been eleven months and I still haven’t perfected the Stay At Home Mom (S.A.H.M) gig. Actually, I have come to grips with the fact that it probably will never happen. But, I thought at this point I would have the schedule down to include: showering and brushing my teeth all before lunch.

Ha Ha…Ah, “Lunch”…yet another word that does not frequent my vocabulary or my daily routine that often these days… unless you consider a granola bar and a bag of frozen Edamame a well rounded meal. Who’d a thunk that every chore and errand I once did before I had a baby would now take triple the amount of time with a baby in the picture? And did you guys know that you are talking to a former personal trainer? Yep, I was a 4:00 a.m. waking, 12 hour day training, and squat perfecting personal trainer. Bet you wouldn’t know it these days with the flab that has currently replaced my once toned gluteus maximus. But don’t you worry folks! I just needed the motivation. It came to me last Tuesday when I heard my husband unlocking the front door after a long day at work and I looked down at my outfit. I booked it upstairs to change from my pajama pants to a fancier pair of sweats (as if that would help the situation). And, to make me appear a little more “presentable” for my sexy, uniform clad husband, I put my oily hair back into a pony tail. I am sure he thinks he is pretty lucky to come home to me each day.

Steve, you need not worry! I jumped back on the self care horse faster than you could say, “Ewww gross!”…

It was time for my S.A.H.M Revival! and so I sat down and wrote out an hour by hour schedule and I am extremely motivated!

It involves seven hours of sleep and my brain, body, and dark circles are thanking me.

It involves thirty minutes of exercise daily…and my glutes are thanking me.

It involves allotted business hours…and my brain is thanking me.

It involves more family time…and Addisyn and Steve love it.

And it gives me peace, so I can be better at everything that I do and love my man and this little girl with all my new found energy.

*yes, my mirror is really that dirty :-)








Have you had your revival today?



Tis the Season for giving and I wanted to help you out with your Christmas shopping. I have two favorite stores right now: Target and B&H Photo Video. One is my “go to” spot for all food and clothing items for my little girl and the other is my “go to” spot for all camera related items. This week, I would like to giveaway a $25.00 gift certificate for Target. Comment on this blog post between now and Thursday at 6:00pm and you could win a free Christmas present for you or for someone in your life. Winner will be selected at random and will be announced on Steve’s blog post on Thursday.

A special thank you: Babe, I don’t even know how to begin thanking you for everything that you are in my life so I will try a public display of “words of affirmation” (shout out to The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman). I don’t know many men that are as hard working as you and come home each night to show their wife and children as much love and affection as you show me and Addisyn. You love me, despite my oily hair and 24 hour pajamas, and I never have to doubt that. Thank you for loving me in every way that I am.


And finally, I have posted some sneak peeks from one of my most recent photo shoots. There is so much love in this family. Angela and Damon, I will do a "couple" photo shoot with you guys any day. The camera loves you, I love you, and you love each other. Your love was easy to capture :-)









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