The phrase I hear every time I try to do anything these days

"But, wait . . . what was your maiden name?"

Registering Joseph for school. Calling the dentist. Church.

I did make it through the new faculty dinner without having to answer that, but that was probably because the people at the table weren't paying attention when someone asked Kevin about his father-in-law with the same last name.

On the bright side, people have been good about pronouncing my first name right.

Obligatory Anniversary Post

We've made it to 7 years of marriage! It sure has been pure magic. (It's like the opposite of breaking a mirror.)

I don't have anything too deep to say right now, but I have a few funny thoughts.

1. One great thing about life is how you acquire important days in your life. Like, the days my kids were born weren't particularly important days in my life before that, but now they are some of the most important days of the year.

The same goes for my anniversary. I use On This Day on Facebook which tells me what I posted that given day for all the years I've had Facebook. The past few years, I post something related to our anniversary on April 23rd, like pictures or poems of some kind. But before that . . .

A pet raccoon? What on earth was I talking about? What kind of strange existence did I live where I had to make Facebook statuses about cows? (That didn't stop after marriage, of course, but I try to talk about less bovine things on my anniversary.) At any rate, things have gotten a lot more poetic since then.

2. We decided that we would keep my maiden name a secret in this ward, just to see how long it would last. It has actually come up a few times, such as when my dad visited, but it hasn't been widespread knowledge the way it was in Michigan.

One time, we were chatting with a couple and it came up that his dad was friends with my uncle. As he and his wife thought about it more later, he wondered why on earth I had the same last name as my uncle.

"I bet she made Kevin change his last name when they got married."

I explained the whole situation later, but the funny thing is, if you compare bits and pieces from these two websites (one from my dad and one from Kevin), he kind of did take my last name. And, even funnier, even if we hadn't gotten married people would have still assumed some relation based on their similar interests. (I guess technically they would have been right, though third half cousins isn't the answer they would expect.)

3. Since it's on my mind, here's another story about maiden and married names. When we first got married we also decided to keep it a secret since we were tired of all the jokes and questions that we got over and over. One time at church, a friend leaned over and asked Kevin if he ever thought it was weird to hear his wife referred to with her married name instead of her maiden name.

"No," Kevin said simply. He gave no explanation or anything. Just, "No." I think it wasn't til several months later that we finally explained that and he was forgiven for being a wet blanket.

4. One time we were talking about death, and I said that if Kevin died and I was over 60, if I remarried I wouldn't bother taking my new husband's name.

"You didn't bother the first time, either," he replied. He had a point.

5. Since this is probably the weirdest blog post ever (see why we kept this a secret from our ward this time?), I'll just end it with something even weirder. It's fake news, but if you can pretend it's real then it puts all our weirdness to shame.

http://www.foxnews.com/health/2017/04/16/story-about-married-couple-discovering-were-twins-during-ivf-appears-to-be-fake.html

And really, we're not all that weird. I promise. We're actually pretty boring. But happy.

A visit from a Grandpa Moon

I think it's finally time to give a more detailed look at life lately. Especially since we've had 3 straight weekends with family! (Would it have been better to have them all consolidated so more people could see each other at once? Probably. But one-on-one is good too.) So, without further ado, I will work backwards, starting with this weekend.

We were happy to find out that my dad would be able to come this week.  He's been in Princeton for a few weeks, but because he's been busy we weren't sure if or when he would make it up here. He managed to get a lot done before Friday, so by early Saturday afternoon he was here!

Unlike the glorious sunny weather last week, this Saturday was cold and drizzly. Any hopes of going on another little hike to see fall colors was dashed. But that didn't matter, because Grandpa was here to play! Before he came Joseph stood at the window waiting for him, and while I was upstairs frantically folding laundry (that I didn't finish . . . errands went long this morning leaving little time for folding) I heard him knocking on the window and giggling. After Grandpa had come in and eaten a little lunch, Joseph gave him his card with "FALL" written on it, covered in beautiful red and orange and yellow crayon (to indicate that there was a fire and a fire truck, of course). Matthew snuggled up to him immediately and insisted on stories. Joseph just wanted to tell him everything (and have repeat it back, of course, as is protocol) and thought it was pretty special that he had two Grandpa Moons.

After a bit of playing, we decided to go to the top of East Rock. We hadn't been yet, and we figured that since we could drive to the top it would be the least painful way to see nature on that rainy day. So up we went.

Don't my dad and Joseph look exactly alike?

The view of New Haven from East Rock

This little city has grown on me.

A windless, balmy day.

Joseph needed an extra jacket, so Kevin went without.

The tower at the top commemorating several early American wars. Side note -- it felt like we had climbed pretty high, but we were only at 366 feet!  

Cute boy with red nose and blue lips and exposed legs.

After that chilly excursion, we headed home, made some plans, and decided to get some New Haven pizza. Then, because we couldn't turn down more free food, we went to the Institute Date Night. The idea was my dad would join us at the table, but he ended up hanging out in the nursery learning a new programming language (which was fine with him, and I don't know how we could have kept my maiden name a secret for too long with him chatting with the others). As it was, some people saw him with Kevin and said, "So your dad is in town?"

And, as it turns out, the dinner was a bit heavy at the top of the food pyramid. I guess when you have Halloween-themed side dishes assigned out potluck style, sugar cookies are a pretty versatile treat that can be cut out in several Halloween-esque ways. After 3 slices of pizza and a bowl of ham chowder, I just didn't have it in me to eat all the treats. Even when the garlic bread came around I could only eat a small piece and got teased for my Sacrament-bread-sized portions. And even then, this morning I still felt so junk fooded out that I ate baby carrots with my breakfast!

Shortly after said breakfast, we headed to church. Someone asked if Kevin would translate for the Spanish speakers but he couldn't because he was giving a talk.

"I'll do it," my dad said. The Spanish coordinator asked his name and he gave it.

"Oh, so you're Kevin's dad!"

"Father-in-law."

"Oh," he said. Blinked a little bit. "That's right." That's what they all say. So off he went to translate into faulty microphones while Kevin and I began our wrestling match with Matthew.

The rest of church went pretty well -- Kevin did a good job shortening his talk, my Sharing Time lesson went fine, Matthew fell asleep, etc. We went home, ate leftover pizza, and then decided to take advantage of the unexpectedly sunny and mild weather to go for a walk in a nearby park.

We didn't take any pictures of the wedding going on. We have crashed so many weddings I've lost count.

This secret passageway was not creepy looking at all.

He raked a pile of leaves and then fell into it.

Since it was sunny, we thought we might like the top of East Rock Park better compared to yesterday. As it turned out, everyone else had the same idea as us so it was crowded and cigarette smokey. And windy. But, the view was a little better.

We came back, let Grandpa have a well-earned nap, played some riveting games of Paw Patrol and Chutes and Ladders, ate some pumpkin roll, and then said goodbye to Grandpa so he could enjoy some 5-10 mph speeds on the ever wonderful I-95.

We have some boys who sure love their grandpa, so hopefully we'll see him again soon!

Six

If I had to use one word to sum up dating during my freshman and sophomore years of college, it would be "awkward." I didn't like it, but I didn't know what to do about it.

And then Kevin and I started dating. I liked him because he was smart, funny, attractive, hardworking, and goodhearted. I grew to like him more because of how I felt when I was with him -- capable, beautiful, appreciated, calm, comfortable, and never weird or awkward.

And let me tell you, that's quite the feat to accomplish. Especially when you have the same last name as someone and people think you're holding hands with your cousin. (okay. maybe that one did feel a little awkward. that's beside the point.)

Anyway, since I felt comfortable enough to no longer worry about what he was thinking of me all the time, I was able to devote that energy to building a relationship and learning to care about another person. So, naturally, we fell in love.

And after 6 years of marriage, I'm sure glad we did.

Once in a blue moon

As I've mentioned before, there was a pretty big obstacle to Kevin and me dating each other. I imagine most people would feel at least a little weird about going out with someone with the same last name as them, and we certainly were no exception.

But, as fate would have it, we did end up dating, and even ended up married (4 years ago today!). In a few short vignettes involving our last name, I will explain how it happened:

1. After we met, I was all too excited at the thought of friendzoning Kevin. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with him, of course, just that I was kind of tired of boys and would find any excuse I could to not have to go out with them (especially since I was so bad at saying no that outright prevention was the best policy). So the next time I saw Kevin, I was happy to say, "Hey, cousin!" That, and other similar actions kept things awkward enough for several months that we felt no fear things could progress.

2. And yet, in April, we started to flirt. All those months of being mutually friendzoned had led us to actually feeling comfortable around each other and even sort of liking each other. By the end of the semester, it was like being back in high school again, the way we would shamelessly throw small objects at each other. One night, we both went to a party full of engineering friends. I don't know how it started, but we ended up having a pillow fight on the couch.

"Oh, how cute," Jack said. "Brother and Sister Moon."

We both froze in horror. Kevin was used to being Brother Moon on his own, and I was used to being Sister Moon on my own, but to be combined so easily was shocking, and pretty embarrassing (especially in front of all our friends). That was the night I realized I wouldn't mind being Sister Moon for the rest of my life.

3. In June, we started to date. Since it was summer, it wasn't common knowledge, nor was it likely to be spread through the sparse grapevine of friends still around. One day Kevin was working on homework, and I was sitting next to him, holding his hand. A friend came up and gave us kind of a funny look. "Are you tutoring him?" he asked.

"Nope," I said.

"Aren't you guys . . . cousins?" We assured him we most definitely weren't, and he walked away. As he left I thought, "I don't usually hold hands with boys I tutor, nor with cousins." I also realized that it wasn't that bad having people think you were some kind of redneck with no consideration for levels of consanguinity.

You'll notice I never answered her question. I still felt too shy about it.  The correct answer is third half cousin once removed.

4. The semester we were engaged, we both took a dance class together. In dance classes, you learn first names, but there's no point to learn last names, so we were spared the usual teasing. However, our teacher knew our last names, and she knew from dancing with Kevin a few times that he wasn't married. I don't know if she ever saw my ring or not.

At the very end of the semester, just a few days before we got married, she finally cornered us and asked, "So, what's up?" She couldn't figure out why we had the same last name and would hold hands. "For a bit there I thought you were brother and sister." We assured that we weren't and looked forward to the time a few days in the future when people would stop asking about it.

5. And then we got married! And people stopped caring! And I never had to legally change my name!

Although, we're still working on what to call the grandparents.

Another reason why my mom is great

During Christmas break in 2010, my mom, then Primary chorister, enlisted my help one afternoon in putting together binders with new Primary songs for all the parents in the ward with Primary kids. Since the current Children's Songbook is older than I am, I guess they've started using lots of newer songs in Primary Programs, and she wanted parents to know them. She also decided to make a binder for me, though I was in the middle of my married student ward and could scarcely conceive of a time when I'd be back in Primary. In a letter at the beginning of the binder, she warned, "Sometime you'll be in Primary and want to know them."

Well, that day has come. I am now the Primary pianist.

So far, it's been pretty fun. I haven't yet mastered the art of biting my cheek when the kids say something funny, so I'm laughing kind of the whole time (but at least I'm hiding behind the piano, right?). The problem right now is that I laugh at things that I know I shouldn't because the kids are just looking for attention, like when a kid in Senior Primary asked, "Are we singing about Aphrodite" during Joseph Smith's First Prayer ("It says 'the God of love' in the song . . . isn't that Aphrodite?"). How does a 10-year-old even know who Aphrodite is anyway? (Also amusing is that some of the kids thought that the prophet before President Hinckley was President Bush. Ha.)

But I digress. Back to the binder. It has already saved my life a few times already. Like today when I remembered I was accompanying someone in Sacrament Meeting and didn't know til 8:20 this morning what song I was even playing. "Life is O'erflowing with Beautiful Things"? Good thing I had the binder with that song in it, otherwise I would have been totally lost. Or how they sing Scripture Power every week? Good thing I have the music for that.

So thanks again, Mom, for being awesome and organized. I'm happy to be yet another Sister Moon serving in Primary music. Even if it still feels like that name belongs to you.

Mrs. Moon

Every now and then, I'm reminded that I married someone with the same last name. Most recently, it's been with all the forms I've been filling out which have asked for my maiden name. Last week, the hospital called because they didn't think I had filled the form out correctly and had accidentally put my last name twice. As feather-brained as pregnancy and new baby have made me, I still don't think I would have made that mistake. (I was laughing pretty hard when that phone call ended.)

But there are other, more subtle ways in which my lack of name change provides amusement. The other day, Kevin called me Mrs. Moon, which he does every now and then. The first time I heard that it was weird weird weird. Mrs. Moon was my mom! And it was my mom in exactly one capacity: volunteering in my class in 5th grade class or doing PTA stuff, always wearing a denim skirt and dark red toenail polish.

Fast forward to a few days ago. My mom decided to buy me some new clothes to celebrate not being pregnant any more (thanks Mom!). She got me some new skirts, some capris, and a cute top that looked like one she would wear herself.  It was while I was wearing this top, my new denim skirt, and uncharacteristically dark red toenail polish that Kevin called me Mrs. Moon. And I just felt so . . . Mrs. Moon-ish.

To add to the Mrs. Moon-ish-ness, the next day my mom stopped by to see Joseph. And she was wearing the exact same top, a denim skirt, and dark red toenail polish.

It's official. I've turned into my mom.

Why it's okay to be wrong sometimes

Three years ago today: Tuesday, January 13th, 2009. I walked into the CAEDM lab and sat down next to my friend Dan. He pointed across the table to a guy doing homework and said, "Kyra, this is my lab partner Kevin. Kevin Moon."

"Oh!" I said excitedly. "So you're the one with the lab kit that says Kevin Moon on it. I was wondering who the other K. Moon was."

"Your last name is Moon too?" he asked.
"Yup! You descended from Henry Moon?" I asked. (Henry Moon was one of those old Mormon pioneers born in 1819 who had three wives.)
"Yup. Henry Moon," he responded almost simultaneously.

And then I thought, "Well, that's one guy I'd never date."

Frequently Asked Questions

It struck me today as I was walking to school that Kevin and I answer the same questions over and over again. On the off chance you haven't met us yet, you can come here to find the answers to the questions.

1. Wait, you guys had the same last name before you were married? So, is there . . . any relation? You guys have checked, right?
Answer: Yes, we had the same last name, yes we're distantly related, no, I don't think dating or marrying your third cousin once removed from another wife is all that weird or gross. People have told me about siblings marrying fourth cousins without realizing it until they were already married, so at least we got the hint beforehand. I'm not too worried about it until our kids start coming out with extra ears or missing fingers.

(as a side note, when girls who are recently married find this out, their response is usually like "oh! you're so lucky you didn't have to change your social security/driver's license.")

2. Oh! You're both electrical engineers! Can you fix my ____ (fill in the blank with toaster, oven, computer, lights, camera . . .) ?
Answer: Two fun facts. One: most modern stuff isn't made to be fixed. It's made to be thrown away and replaced. It's cheaper. Two: you're thinking of electricians, not electrical engineers. I can derive Maxwell's equations and probably do a z-transform or two, but as soon as I have to handle wires and circuits I'm a dunce.

3. You're an electrical engineer! Is your dad so happy?
Answer: If he is, he hasn't told me yet. (Okay, so I'm sure he's happy, but he's not the reason I went into it. All the exposure to engineering he gave me helped but I think it was a couple things my mom said that convinced me to give it a try.)

4. You're both electrical engineers! You must be so smart!
Answer: Thanks. It's nice to hear compliments like this but at the same time I'm a bit troubled. If I were doing elementary education or family life, would I not be smart? I've known plenty of extremely intelligent people in both majors, yet I doubt they hear this compliment when they share their major.


Okay, so now you know what questions I don't like to be asked. (I admit the last one was a comment, but I still don't like it.) Now you are free to ask me other (more interesting) questions such as, "What color is your toothbrush?" or "Given the choice between flying a kite and eating a marshmallow, which would you choose?" or even "Do you know what the weather's supposed to be like tomorrow?"

Yes, I think conversations would be a lot more fun with those sorts of infrequently asked questions.