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.

A long and journal-y post that ends with a wedding

Back at the beginning of August, we ended up taking another trip to Utah. We had two main reasons for going. The first was a conference at Snowbird that Kevin had submitted a paper to. Initially, we had thought that he could go to Utah by himself and that could be the time that my mom could come out to meet Matthew and keep me sane with a newborn.

But then my sister Jennie got engaged in the middle of June, and we didn't think it was a good idea for my mom to come out in the midst of wedding prep. So we decided to stress her out a different way by visiting her!

(Stress is the wrong word. My mom doesn't get stressed, or if she does she hides it well.)

Luckily, Matthew was born early enough and healthy enough that we could take him on a plane, so off we went with a cute 11 day old baby on a 3 1/2 hour flight.

We attached a pipe cleaner and a binder clip to his pacifier since those were the only things we had on hand while we were packing. Maybe someday we should get something that really attaches.

The flight went pretty well. To make a long story short, I didn't end up sitting next to Kevin and Joseph even though I probably could have. Our seats got upgraded and I ended up in first class, so I thought of course that was worth sticking with. But my visions of La-Z boy seats and personal flight attendants bringing you Belgian chocolate every half hour were misguided. It was just a little bit more leg room, a meal I didn't need, and better snacks. 6 rows behind me, Kevin and Joseph had basically the same treatment. Oh well. I was sitting next to a guy and having a nice conversation, so I didn't want to move. But of course, the minute I pulled out the nursing cover he turned away and we never said a word again. So I just hung out with sweet sleeping Matthew and the magazine crossword puzzles for a few hours while Kevin and Joseph watched Lightning Mcqueen on the laptop.

And then we were in Utah! Since my dad was going to the same conference as Kevin and Leslie would be working most of the time we were there, they met us at the airport.

Since we were up pretty late by both Utah and Michigan standards, it was nice that church was a little later. I was excited to take Matthew to church for the first time, even if he wasn't.

I . . . really need to take some better pictures with Matthew.

The rest of the week was kind of a blur. Joseph kept his uncle Spencer and Grandma Barbara busy. Matthew ate about every hour and a half, except at night when it was more like every 5-6 hours (fine with me).  My mom and I took turns running into the room when we heard Matthew yelp because he was pulling his hair and unable to let go. Joseph and Kevin and I had mild colds that we worked through and tried to not spread to Matthew.(Not that Kevin would spread it to us . . . he was at the conference rasping his way through his talk.)

When he was done with the conference, we all met up again, hung out with Joseph's cousins and cousins once removed and second cousins and great-grandparents from all sorts of sides of the family, and then we were off to Duchesne!

The drive to Duchesne was a little frustrating, to be honest. Sometimes roads have to be one lane due to construction. I get it. I also understand that you have to wait your turn while the cars coming from the other direction have to go on that one lane. But what I don't understand is why a construction worker would only let about 15 cars through at a time when it's a 20 minute wait each way. Nor do I understand why they would reduce a road to one lane for five miles when there is only a 200 foot stretch where there is any equipment doing anything on a road that locals say didn't need fixing anyway. It was almost funny, except that it was late at night with kids who couldn't get back to sleep.

But we made it. An hour after we thought we would, but we made it. The next few days were another blur of taking care of Matthew, eating, playing with Joseph, and hanging out with family.

His faces crack me up.

Sunday night, we headed back up to Logan for Jennie's wedding. We had seen everybody back in May, and this time didn't even include Kiana since she's on her mission, but it still felt so nice to just have everyone there that could be there.

Especially this cute girl. Good job, Kaylie and Derek.

The next day was a busy one full of wedding prep and apartment organization. Well, in theory I helped with all that. In reality I mostly fed Matthew and stressed about not having a skirt that fit to wear to the wedding and going backwards on the childbirth healing process (it was nothing major, just unpleasant and annoying). Postpartum life rocks sometimes. But everything was resolved by the end of the day.

And then . . . it was wedding time! Joseph was really sad that he couldn't watch, and even having Meet the Mormons on in the waiting room couldn't catch his interest. Somehow he managed to find something that interested him, and we finally were able to head in. The sealing was lovely, the pictures were sunny and thankfully short-lived (good call, Jennie), and then before too long, it was time to head to the wedding luncheon.

The choice was to squint in the sun or look splotchy in the shade.

I've been a big fan of my teenage boy cousins. So has Joseph.

I always feel like paparazzi when I take pictures like this of people coming out of the temple.

I just liked all the different colors in this picture. That's all.

Jennie had asked me to prepare a musical number for the wedding luncheon, so I played a combination of "A Whole New World" and "At Last I see the Light." It was good having an excuse to refine that arrangement because I've had it sort of made up for nearly 3 years now, but it was always too boring. And now it's not. (Hopefully soon I'll post the video.) We then were asked to get up and say nice things about Jennie.

There were just two problems with that . . . we found out a minute before we got up that we were getting up, and, well, we're just not that sentimental. So none of us knew what to say at all. Luckily, everyone there (even Matt's side) already knows how awesome Jennie is, so they probably all just came to the conclusion that she has weird siblings. When some of Matt's siblings spoke and gave nice, polished remarks, it felt like even more of an epic fail. Oh well.

Right after that, I needed to go feed Matthew, but I still wanted to hear what people were saying. I thought the steps up to the stage would be a nice, dark, private place that was still in earshot of the gym. What I didn't realize was that there would be nieces and nephews running up and down those stairs and dads trying to corral their kids back in. I guess I could have moved, but sometimes you don't think about those things when you have a hungry, impatient baby. At one point, there was a huge influx of girls running up the stairs whispering, "Hide, hide!" And then I heard a bunch of kids singing "Love" by Nat King Cole. As soon as the song they weren't performing with the rest of the group was done, they all left the classroom. It was hilarious.

After the wedding luncheon, we set up for the reception. Except I mostly fed Matthew, and didn't help set up at all. But they did a good job -- lights strung around trees, pictures of family hanging from trees, beautiful tables and chairs, beautiful and delicious food . . . it was great.

Closest we got to a family picture. We do have another son somewhere.

The next day, we packed up, drove to the airport, stood in line forever at security, and flew home.

It was a good trip. We're glad we made it. 

And I'm glad that Matthew hasn't needed to eat quite so often these days.

Five

I've been preparing for this anniversary for a while now. I went through my literature anthology to see if there were any good love poems in there. I've looked through old Facebook albums to reminisce about the fun times we've had. I've even written up marriage/relationship/friendship advice based on what's kept us so happy (short version: you are going to be happiest with someone who makes you feel like a normal, good, uncomplicated, non-awkward human being, so try to help other people feel like that when they're around you). I've come up with reasons why being married to Kevin is the best thing ever (perhaps it is that his motto for himself must be "When we're helping we're happy").

But I haven't thought of any grand, sweeping, romantic things to say that will sum up 5 years that have been both as magical as Disneyland and as natural as breathing. Except that, I guess.

Anyway, it's been great. And Kevin is great.

Looking forward to infinity more!

The Trip to Utah

As I mentioned before, we spent the last two weeks of August in Utah! It was fabulous!

Here is the evidence: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151681379552979&type=1&l=87009dade2

I forgot to take the camera along to lots of fun things such as the Oneida Narrows (where Joseph got his 5th haircut while the rest of us floated the river), Rock Creek (where Joseph threw all the rocks into the river) and the Duchesne 1st ward party at Starvation Lake (where Joseph threw the rest of the rocks into the lake). But those were fun too.

And Kaylie got married! Hurrah for Mrs. Paulson! In honor of this momentous occasion, here is my favorite wedding day quote which she said to Leslie when Leslie was wearing a polka dot pajama top, plaid (?) pajama pants, and unbrushed hair:

"You look like a deputy of virtue."

And that pretty much sums up the trip.

Once upon a time . . .

. . . on a cold, drizzly morning in April, we got married.

Looking back, I may have been a bit too casual about the whole affair, stubbornly refusing to care about things like shoes, makeup, nails, or having the perfect dress. I didn't care if people wore the right colors or not. I didn't stress too much about if my friends made it or not since most of them were in Provo and the rest I hadn't hung out with much since high school. Bridals? Out of the question. Eating ice cream in the reception line so that I had to shake hands with sticky fingers? Sure why not. (As a side note, I wanted to go get more ice cream and actually wondered if they would notice, but then I realized that I was kind of noticeable in a big white dress.) First dance with husband at the reception? Nope -- didn't choose a song. Dance with dad at the reception? Nope -- didn't want to cry. When the reception had gone about 15 minutes longer than the invitation said, I decided that it was basically over, so Kevin and I went up the stairs and out of there, no bouquet toss or anything. And that was that.

But hey, we were married!

And it's been a party ever since.


by the way, thank you Mom for caring a bit more than I did so that it was actually pretty classy. I really wouldn't have minded if you had used sticks from the backyard as centerpieces, though.

More on Primary songs

I mentioned a little while ago that we listen to lots of Primary songs. Between those and the "you're okay" song (it has the melody from Jingle Bells), we are usually able to calm Joseph down. So we like them.

Even so, we still shudder sometimes at how out of tune the kids can be, and sometimes the songs bring back interesting memories from childhood. For example:


(During "Oh What Can You Do in the Summertime")
 Kevin: I never liked this song. I spent my summers outside working in the heat, so I never got to do any of these things.
(As the song progresses): "Do you fish in a stream"
Kevin: "No!"
"or lazily dream"
"No!"
...
"or drink lemonade"
"NO!!!"
Poor guy.

(During "Shine On" or some other song)
Kyra: I didn't like this one so much. It didn't have a good picture.
Kevin: good picture?
Kyra: You know, the picture on the page. Didn't you judge the Primary songs based on their pictures?
Kevin: . . .
Turns out not every kid looked at the Children's Songbook regularly.

(During "Popcorn Popping")
"Spring has brought me such a nice surprise, blossoms popping right before my eyes"
Kevin: Blossoms? Did they change the words?
Kyra: No, it's always been blossoms. We all just sing it wrong.
Kevin: No wonder I never understood that song. I just thought it was a stupid song. Why would popcorn grow on apricot trees?
Thanks, Mom, for bringing apricot blossoms to Primary when you were chorister. I think it cleared up a lot of confusion.

(During "When My Mother Calls Me" or "Pioneer Children Were Quick to Obey" or "When We're Helping We're Happy")
Kyra: My mom used to sing this to me a lot.

(During "Fun to Do")
"Cleaning my room is fun to do, fun to do to do to do . . ."
Kevin: These songs are full of propaganda.
Another time . . .
Kevin: We're going to make sure this is Joseph's favorite song.

(During "My Flag")
Kyra: This was my favorite song. I used to do that one thing with the translucent pegs where you would stick them in a screen and make a flag and sing this (I know this from family videos).
Kevin: Lite Brite?
Kyra: yeah!
Kevin: I always wanted one of those. Also Power Wheels.
Kyra: I wanted Easy Bake.

(During "You've Had a Birthday")
Kyra: This was also my favorite song. Also, it was the only birthday song I really liked. The rest were weird.
Kevin: Yeah, I didn't like them either. Did you not like them because they had weird words like "zippidy"?
Kyra: Yeah, or "children." You know, "Happy happy birthday, children dear." It was so formal sounding. We were kids, not children! Also, "Feliz." Why did they make us sing that song? The chorister would just mutter some gibberish and we would repeat it, but then we'd forget it.
Apparently we're opinionated about our birthday songs around here.

Anyway, those are some of our reactions to Primary songs these days. Do you have any memories or strong feelings about any songs? Also, did anyone else care about the pictures?

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.

The End of an Era

Well, I'm done. After a mad dash to Graduate Studies yesterday at approximately 1:55 to get everything approved by 2:00, I finished my masters degree and am graduating in August.

And with that last desperate sprint, I reached the finish line for a lot of different things. After 17 years of school (and some preschool I guess), I am done with school, possibly for forever. I'm done with college, done with my masters, done with my thesis . . . it's a little surreal.

Although I've reached the finish line for many different things, most of all I feel like I've reached the end of an era that began in winter semester of 2009. Why then? I feel like life has changed very little since then. I did get married in 2010 and got my bachelor's in 2011, but even those events, as momentous as they were, still felt like part of a pattern rather than abrupt shifts. In fact, I feel like the last huge shifts in my life occurred back in 2009.

Let me explain. It was that semester that I really started taking engineering classes and seriously considering electrical engineering. It was during that semester that I made many friends in that major that I still do stuff with today. In particular, it was then that I met Kevin. And it was then that I started going to the Clyde Building all the time. So even after I got married, it was just a transition from being with Kevin all waking hours to being with Kevin all hours. After I graduated, it was just a transition from going to the Clyde Building all the time to going to the Clyde Building even more.

So when I look at how stable things have been for the last 3 years and how much they're going to change within the next few months (no more school, brand new baby, brand new state), I think it's safe to say that I've reached the end of an important era in my life. It's been a wonderful 3+ years, but it's time to move on to a new phase of life (the new moon phase, pun intended).

In the spirit of nostalgia, here are a few things about the past few years that I won't miss, and some that I will.



Things I won't miss

--Research. It has its moments, but more often than not it is frustrating, confusing, and downright annoying. And sort of lonely.


--Working with engineers. At least, not engineering professors. Don't get me wrong -- they are brilliant and considerate and make awesome advisers in a lot of ways. But when it comes down to it . . . they're still engineers. By this I mean some of them would say things that were . . . off-putting. Now, I know they made fun of all the students, so I shouldn't have felt singled out, but when you're kind of the only girl they have different things to make fun of, so I felt singled out anyway. At the beginning it was all about was how I looked 12 years old (just fyi, women don't take that as a compliment until they're like 40), and at the end it was all about how grotesquely large I was (which I didn't appreciate for some odd reason). And if I ever hear the word "waddle" again I may throw something. I guess the take-home message for all professors who may read this is that you are never quite as funny as you think you are, especially when you're making a joke at someone else's expense.


--My computer. The version of Firefox it ran was made in 2006. 2006! Now, I'm sure that back in 2006 Firefox 2.0.0.17 worked great, but by 2012 it was completely lousy. I couldn't check several websites, the BYU homepage was a complete mess, I couldn't make comments on Facebook, and by the end, gmail only showed up in html. I wanted to do a print screen of several webpages to garner pity, but even print screen didn't work on my machine. Furthermore, it was just soooooooo slow. I could have exactly one program running and it would still take several minutes for it to do anything. They're finally going to upgrade the computers this summer, go figure.



Things I will miss
--Research. It can be frustrating, confusing, and downright annoying, but when you figure out how to make the algorithm work or how to simplify the equation, it can be exhilarating.

--Working with Kevin all the time. Those of you who have heard us work on homework together may wonder if I really mean this. After all, there were times when we disagreed and were quite intense in our disagreements. But we both knew that we were disagreeing about how the homework should be done, and as soon as we came to what we thought was the right answer, the fight was over. So yes, I will miss working with him. I'll miss our date nights in the Clyde Building and our late-night adventures getting projects done and the giddiness we both felt when we finally got something to work at 11 at night. I feel like we were able to see problems from different angles and were really able to help each other learn the material better.

--Learning about engineering. One comment I've never appreciated is, "Good for you for going into a technical field. Then if something happens to Kevin you'll be able to support yourself." That is a 100% true statement (albeit a bit morbid), but I feel like I misses the point of why I went into engineering (or why any woman bothers to get an education). I really did like learning about the stuff! If I hadn't liked it I wouldn't have done it. The math, the applications, the theory, all of it was just fascinating. I've still got a list at the back of my mind of stuff I still want to learn about and textbooks I still want to read. And now that school's out of the way I may just have time for them all . . .

The stories we say

You know what one of my favorite things about being married is? Having a captive audience. Turns out I like to talk quite a bit, and Kevin gets to hear most of it (though Leslie gets to read a lot of it via gchat).

And you know what one of my favorite conversation topics is? Me! I like to think that deep down that's everybody's favorite conversation topic (themselves, that is, not me personally).

Anyway, one of the interesting things about opening up and sharing so much about myself is how it helps me remember other stories about myself. For several years, I think my favorite conversation topic was boys. Yeah, I was one of those boy-crazy teenage girls. I don't think I actually knowingly flirted very much (not suave enough for that haha), but I think I spent a lot of time talking to and thinking about boys.

And that's fine and normal, but once you get married it's kind of a boring conversation topic. The big stories are still good stories, like the date to a funeral which also involved an emergency trip to the hospital and a ride in a tow truck, or the time I answered for senior ball with a word search that managed to have some unintentional innuendo in it, but most everything else I just don't care about anymore.

So that meant I had to dig deeper and start remembering stories from before I was a teenager. Turns out I remember quite a bit from back then, no thanks to my journal of course. The journal I used from age 8 to 11 has about one type of entry in it, each spaced a few months apart:

"Mom/Dad sent me to my room! They are so mean to me!!! I bet they're not even my real parents! My life is the worst!!!"

So it's basically only good for helping me keep track of how often I was sent to my room.

Despite that, by talking to Kevin, I've managed to unearth quite a few stories from the way back when. Like how Leslie and I used to grab pillows and put them behind our heads to dance to the Triss-Trass Polka. Or how the green Jello-Jigglers I brought for St. Patrick's day in 1st grade were stolen by some leprechaun (translation: 4th grader) and scattered across the playground.

And in return, I've learned lots of wonderful things about Kevin. Like his fascination with Davy Crockett, complete with the coonskin cap. Or how in high school his friends spent their time carving out a cinderblock from a wall of the soon-to-be-demolished school (during concurrent enrollment classes, of course). Or how he tormented his younger sister by dropping her stuffed animals off the landing at the top of the stairs because they had nothing to live for anymore.

I think the main reason I love hearing stories from our pasts is that it helps me understand both of us much better. There's a connection we get from learning that we had the same opinion about a lot of things growing up (like hating sports in gym class). And even the things we didn't agree on (e.g. he thought movie musicals were boring because there was too much dancing whereas I liked them) has helped us gain a better understanding of each other and where we're coming from. It's like each story is another puzzle piece that helps complete the picture of the person I've chosen to love and spend eternity with.

I think Vienna Teng sums it up just right in "Eric's Song" (my favorite love song):

And with each passing day

The stories we say

Draw us tighter into our addiction

Confirm our conviction

That some kind of miracle

Passed on our heads

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."

"Home"-coming

Like most of our brilliant ideas, our celebration of homecoming week began as sort of a sarcastic conversation.

"I want to go to homecoming, but I don't want to pay for it," I said sometime that week. "Maybe we should do it in the livingroom."
"We could do that," Kevin said facetiously. "And, like, move stuff so we could dance better."
"And make our own crepes and chocolate fountain, cuz that'd be the only reason to go to a sponsored dance."

You get the idea. By the end of the conversation we weren't being too sarcastic anymore. It was settled. We were going to actually celebrate Homecoming Week with a dance in our apartment. That Thursday I mentioned that neither of us had been to BYU Spectacular, and so we figured with the money we'd save on not going to a dance, we could go see it. So we did. And it was spectacular. And I felt so accomplished for having done 2 Homecoming activities. I think that's a record for us.

Anyway, onto Saturday. While Kevin was taking a math test I cleaned and cleaned and pretended I didn't have homework. Then I decided that I might as well decorate for the dance.

Okay, so they're not the classiest decorations, but still . . . Christmas lights! And tissue paper! And they're not coming down until January! (minus the fact that most of the tape has stopped sticking . . . ) (Speaking of not taking stuff down, hey, October 21st is coming up, which means the raptors will finally be coming down.)

Anyway, after our gourmet meal of . . . Papa Murphy's (my epic plans for some fancy chicken dinner went out the window about the time I vacuumed the living room and used up my domestic energy) and a shopping trip mainly composed of junk for the dance (which still cost less than an actual dance would have cost), it was time for the dance!

I would include pictures of us, but the ones I took of me look weird, and I didn't end up taking any with Kevin. Sad. Just know that we looked wonderful, Kevin especially.

As for the dance . . . it was awesome. We didn't really remember many dance moves except the samba routine from Dance 185, but we always had the deacon shuffle to fall back on so it was okay. After an hour or so of dancing, we decided to make our crepes and chocolate fountain. And by chocolate fountain I mean chocolate chips melted in the microwave. Add to that strawberries, bananas, whipped cream, powdered sugar, marshmallows, rice krispies, cinnamon bears, and oreos, and we just gave ourselves the best refreshments of any dance I've ever been to. Plus we put the crepes on our cake platter, which made it even classier.

About this time my sister Kaylie stopped by for crepes and chocolate fountain (we had extended an invitation earlier that afternoon), and then we continued dancing. Luckily, the songs on the playlist were the the more jumping-up-and-down kind (think "Friday," which has inexplicably won my heart), so she didn't feel like a 3rd wheel too much. In fact, probably my favorite part of the evening was when she favored Kevin and me with an interpretive dance set to Aerosmith's "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing." I wish we had recorded it. She is very glad we didn't.

After that, we decided to call it a night (we didn't want our downstairs neighbors to start banging on their ceiling). All in all, I think it was my favorite dance ever. I think Kevin and I should continue having sarcastic conversations.

Disney Channel Movies

Kevin commented the other day that we probably spend more time together than most couples we know. And it's probably true. We now sit by each other at work, so unless one of us has something going on that the other doesn't (think visiting teaching or home teaching), the only time we're really apart is when Kevin leaves for work 20 or so minutes before me (because I'm lazy in the mornings) or for bathroom breaks.

You might think after all the hours together we might get on each others' nerves, but so far that really hasn't happened yet. For one thing, Kevin's perfect, so he will never get on my nerves and he's too patient to ever let me get on his nerves. For another thing, there's not a whole lot from day to day we find to disagree on. Kevin is just as likely to suggest Sense and Sensibility to watch as I am, and I am just as likely to suggest, say, Spiderman as he is.  We both like any food Mexican or Indian or Chinese. We have similar long term goals and dreams. It's no wonder that people refer to us as "Kyrvin."

By this point, you probably want to remind me that differences are important to a relationship. We're unbalanced because one of us doesn't hate science and cleave to the humanities. We're not learning and growing because neither of us brought different things to the marriage relationship.

Those statements may have some truth to them, but honestly I'm not worried. You see, Kevin and I might be too much the same, but I've already anticipated what our kids are going to be like.

They're going to be the kind Disney Channel makes movies about.

I can see it now. A fun-loving, easygoing, adventurous kid born to uptight, academically-oriented parents (can you see it already?). And this fun-loving kid will want to become the world's best, um, hoverboarder (because  it will be after 2015, and Back to the Future II told us there would be hoverboards in 2015). And of course the uptight, fun-hating parents will not approve, because they don't like the lifestyle and want the kid to go to some magnet school so he can be a "benefit to society." Luckily for the kid, he may not have inherited the parents' love of science and technology, but he did inherit their capability to succeed. So of course he wins all the hoverboarding competitions and becomes the best (junior) hoverboarder in the world. Then he sets his parents aside and has a talk with them about dreams and how he can benefit society by hoverboarding, and the parents ultimately realize that not everyone has to be an engineer, so they totally support him from then on.

I can totally see it. Kevin says the last sentence is the most unlikely part of the story, at least for him. I'm guessing it'll be called Hoverin' Moon or something catchy like that.

I guess my point is, I'm not too worried that we're too much alike.

Sleep Adventures

For my birthday, my mom sent me some books, which I appreciated a lot. One was a retelling of the tale East of the Sun and West of the Moon, which is sort of like Beauty and the Beast. (Incidentally, I just accidentally wrote Beauty in the Beast instead of Beauty and the Beast, which sounds like a self-help book or something.) Anyway, one crucial element of the story is that while the girl is living in the palace, every night some mysterious man gets in the bed and shares it with her.

Well, I guess it was on my mind or something because the night I was up in Boise I woke up all of the sudden not quite sure who this strange man was who was sleeping next to me. Should I go get help? Should I turn the light on to see who it was? After sitting in the bed for like half a minute I realized it was Kevin, and he was supposed to be there. I looked at the time. 11:56. Then I went back to sleep and told him the story in the morning.

The next day we drove back from Boise and listened to a book on CD called "Till We Have Faces." It was actually kind of weird. Maybe it's because the first CD was scratched, so we had no idea what was going on for the first fifteen minutes of listening to the second CD. Anyway, the main girl's sister was sacrificed to the gods but it turned out she was fine, and every night she would go to sleep and then a man would join her in the darkness.

Again, I thought? What's up with all these mysterious men?

And again, last night I woke up suddenly, not quite sure who was next to me and if I was in danger or not. Then I realized it was Kevin. I checked the time. 11:56. Seriously. Then I went back to sleep.

I think I need to read different books.

Lately . . .

So besides doing a random post on my birthday about a weird thing I did as a child, I haven't blogged about life in a while.

And quite a bit has happened. But rather than blathering on and on about everything and every thought I may have had about everything, I'm going to save that for my journal and just share a couple of highlights. Occasional pictures. And I'll try to keep to the 6 word limit Ernest Hemingway kept one time (as shown by my wonderful cousin here), though I may have longer parenthetical remarks.

Here goes . . .

Garden

Just ask Jillian: I like dirt.

(or ask Kevin. I also like peas and onions and lettuce and marigolds and garden soil and watering cans and getting dirty and then getting clean. We don't have high hopes for the peas since it's finally warmed up, but it's still fun)

Finals

3 scheduled finals within 24 hours. Done.

(okay, that was 7 words. And those were just the scheduled finals!)

Graduation

At least my cap didn't fall off.

(7 words again. And it almost did 4 years ago in high school while I was giving a speech. This time my name was just mispronounced in front of thousands of people [though I made sure they pronounced it right when I was getting the diploma]. I'm over it now. :D

One of my favorite parts (and the most nerve wracking) is shown in this picture. I felt so honored to play a musical number at convocation. Also, Kaylie is very good at curling my hair into ringlets.)

Anniversary

Love Kevin. And Old Rock Church.

(okay, 6 words just can't do justice. This has been a wonderful wonderful year and Kevin is remarkable. I could go on and on about just how wonderful our anniversary was, going back to the inn where we spent our first night, watching the Importance of Being Earnest while eating breakfast in bed, let alone all the wonders of this past year and how it's changed me as a person and helped me remember who I was before I became a angsty teenager . . . but I will refrain. Just know that marriage rocks.)

Carl Bloch

The Savior loves us dearly.

(I feel like saying much more would be irreverent. It was a very humbling experience and the paintings were magnificent. I'm so glad the Church discovered Bloch's artwork.)

Work

Done by 5! No homework ever!

(and no other girls either, for that matter. Goodness . . . some days I look forward to grocery shopping just so I can talk to another female face-to-face for the first time that day!)

Birthday

Snow. Steak. Cake. Friends. Happiness. 21.

(Some of my high school friends had a party up in Logan [not for my birthday, just for fun] and it was good remembering how awesome they are. And my family fed us steak and cake for dinner, which was also awesome. I think it was one of the happiest birthdays I've had in a long time.)

Tulip Festival

I love tulips. Still use WordPerfect.

The festival promised "eye candy" and I think this picture definitely has a lot. :)

Wicked

Flying. Singing. 6 years of waiting.

(yeah, it was awesome. I sorta wish I hadn't known the songs quite as well going in, but it was still amazing. And Kevin liked it. And Boise was wonderful and I have the most wonderful family up there. And I liked the zoo.)

So that's some of the amazingly fun stuff I've been up to!

Honorable mentions: party at Joaquin (which ended with a missing wedding ring [not mine]), a wonderful lunch date with a dear friend of mine who didn't seem to mind that I can't eat Subway sandwiches like a civilized being, my obsession with cleaning windows and baseboards and floors and "owning" the apartment, my friend finding her ring after 2 weeks (i.e., today), giving me hope that I won't keep on dreaming she's found it since those are really depressing dreams when I wake up, baby blessing of my youngest cousin which made me feel old, induction into the Provo Married Student 34th ward (long name with unattractive acronym), family dinner, Kaylie's amusement with the "oompa loompas" in the cleanroom  . . .

Yeah, life has treated me well.

Staples

So I chose the name of this blog somewhat on a whim, and for whatever reason, I picked "Staples, Tacos, and Love." I couldn't tell you why except that my relationship with Kevin has included staples, tacos, and of course, love. I already touched on tacos in http://kevinkyramoon.blogspot.com/2010/08/there-are-two-sides-to-every-taco.html and I decided now is as good a time as any to explain the staples part.

After all, it was almost two years that we started throwing staples at each other. So mature, right? I already know that's something you do in high school to flirt, and back then I was two years out of high school. But if it worked in high school, then I think it can still work in college (and for the record, I still love the gimmicks people use to ask each other to dances in high school even though people generally swear them off in college).

But yep. There we were in the CAEDM lab, that wonderful computer lab with the free printing for the electrical engineers. That's where we had met about three months previous and had slowly developed our friendship. But now I saw him differently. He was no longer just that brilliant young man with the hearty laugh. He was the brilliant young man with the hearty laugh that I had developed a major crush on. And despite my shyness about admitting that I liked someone because of fear of embarrassment and rejection, I decided to do something about it.

I don't remember why we started throwing staples at each other, but I am sure of a few things:

1) I started it.
2) He had it coming to him.
3) He retaliated.

And thus it began. We didn't have full-out wars in the computer lab, but probably more than half of a stick of staples were used as projectiles rather than for their intended purpose. One time Kevin collected all the staples I had thrown at him and started throwing them at me. I thought he was going to throw them at my face so I was quite happy when he kept on missing it. But it turns out he wasn't aiming for my face. Hours later I realized I still had staples in my hair.

I think the staple throwing continued through finals week, but then it stopped once Kevin went to China for a few months. Once he came back we didn't need them anymore to break the ice, so we haven't really thrown them since then. But nevertheless I'm grateful for those couple of immature weeks where we both pretended we were back in high school and let down our guards enough to show our silly sides.

The Best Treasure Hunt EVER

I’ve always loved treasure hunts. For several years, on Valentine’s day, my mom would make each child an individual age-appropriate treasure hunt to find our little box of Sweethearts. Since I liked those so much, I started making treasure hunts too. When my cousins came to visit, if we didn’t put on a play, we made treasure hunts. Some of them required us to go traipsing around in the foothills behind my house, and I think someone threw up and another person got a gash in their leg, but hey . . . there’s still treasure at the end! Some treasures were more disappointing, like the little baggie of Marshmallow Mateys buried in the sandbox one time, but to me the thrill of the hunt was just as awesome as the treasure at the end.

The more elaborate the treasure hunt, the better. For example, I loved setting up treasure hunts where the treasure ended up being in the same room everyone started in. I remember one family home evening lesson where I sent everyone off to look for clues I’d already planted, while I set up the tootsie pops I had bought for the treasure. I think it was supposed to explain how we lived in heaven before we were born, but we had to go to earth (aka, the treasure hunt) to get the treasure at the end. It made sense when I was 9, okay?

I remember another treasure hunt I set up when my parents weren’t home, and I decided I wanted to make homemade pretzels. I sent my sisters and their friends on a treasure hunt while the pretzels were cooking, and then just before they got to the location of the treasure, I put the pretzels there. I think the pretzels were formed to spell out “You found it!” or some other encouraging message. Food is always a good treasure, right?

And the fun didn’t stop in high school. One of my favorite parts of date dances was the treasure hunt aspect — finding the bulky envelope under the globe in the library, decoding the obscure message about taffeta gowns, solving the sudokus to find out who was asking me.

But then I came to college. Suddenly there was no reason for treasure hunts. If a boy was going to ask you out, they weren’t going to waste time and energy asking you out. There wasn’t really anyone to make treasure hunts for like siblings or cousins, anyway.

So I kind of forgot about them. I got busy with other things. Occasionally I would walk around on campus and suddenly think about things in treasure-hunt mode. For instance, I was standing between the Harold B. Lee Library and the Herald Clark building and thought, “I’m standing between 2 Harolds! This would make a great clue . . . for what?”

But then Kevin and I started dating, and he in his infinite kindness and patience decided to humor me. One Wednesday afternoon last November while we were eating lunch, Kevin said, “I’ve got a special date planned.” After a bit of pestering from me, he finally admitted, “I’m planning a treasure hunt.”

“What’s the prize?” I asked. “A toaster oven?”

He paused for a second. Then, “Sure. Yes, the prize might be a toaster oven.”

And that was all he would say about it. The thought of this treasure hunt started driving me crazy! I knew he was going to propose any day, but I thought for sure it was going to be after Thanksgiving. After all, he had to ask my dad for my hand. So . . . what was the point of this treasure hunt?

Well, Friday rolled around, and after my terrible EE 313 quiz, I got a piece of engineering paper with instructions and mysterious matrices on it. Since “love note matrices,” as we liked to call them, weren’t unfamiliar to us, I was able to decipher it pretty quickly. (I have since learned they’re actually called Hill ciphers. Yay for cryptography class.) Where were we going to dinner? The decoded message said, “Australia.” In other words, Outback.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t pay much attention to anything that day. As I took what I mistakenly thought was a very easy Complex Analysis test, I kept thinking, “the sooner I finish this test the sooner I’ll go home and go on the treasure hunt!!!” I finished it and came home and got ready for my date with Kevin. He came around 5 with a beautiful bouquet of 5 roses. I found a vase and put them in. “Did you notice something about the roses?” he asked. “No . . .” I responded. “Aren’t there usually . . . 12 roses?” he hinted. I then looked at the plastic which the roses came in. Yep, there were supposed to be a dozen. Thus, the mission was made clear: recover the missing seven roses.

As we drove north on State Street under a beautiful, fiery sunset, I continued to pester Kevin. “What’s the prize going to be?” “I already told you, it’s a toaster oven!” Though Outback was packed, Kevin had already made a reservation. As we ate our steak, we talked about life and love and our relationship. When the waiter came with the check, he also brought a rose and an envelope. “Congratulations! This is a great idea, by the way,” he told Kevin. “I think I’ll use it for my girlfriend.” Did I catch on? No! I was so convinced that he was going to propose after Thanksgiving that even this huge slip didn’t faze me. I think when the stakes are high enough, even those who pride themselves on being ungullible can be surprised.

I read the note which said, “Go to the place where we had our first date and look for something that makes noise.” I smiled and said, “The Malt Shoppe.” (I could write another blog post about this long about how this first date even happened, but I’ll leave that for another time.) So off we went, looking for something that made noise. Kevin helped a lot, pointing to a pillar, then pointing to a particular spot on the pillar until I finally saw the whistle. I looked at Kevin quizzically, and he said, “blow it!” So I blew it and there from the darkness came one of Kevin’s roommates. He gave me another rose and envelope, then gave a slight bow and backed away into the darkness.

This note told us to “dig for treasure! X marks the spot”, or in other words, go to the Museum of People’s and Cultures to look for treasure. So off we went to the sandbox by the totem pole at the museum we had gone to a few weeks previously. We both dug and dug until we found another whistle. I blew it again, and Kevin’s roommate Ian came with his girlfriend Emma, both wearing warrior paint. Another rose, another envelope, and they too disappeared into the darkness.

This one told us, “Let’s hike the Y!” I said that jokingly almost every day as we walked home from school. Was he really going to make us do it? Luckily, the whistle was just waiting at the base of the Y, attached to a flashlight which was dangling from a branch of a tree to make it visible. Again, I blew the whistle, and one of our engineering friends emerged from the darkness with another rose and note.

The note informed us that the next clue would be waiting where Kevin had first seen me. It was in August 2008. He was fresh off his mission, and I was working as a Math Lab TA during a Math Refresher Course. Though we had never talked to each other, he had still remembered me and recognized me when we became friends 5 months later. Once we were in the math lab, I looked around a bit for the next whistle. Once I found it, I blew it, and there came Kevin’s roommate (the same who had delivered the whistle at the Malt Shoppe) with another rose and envelope.

All that was on the next clue was a door code. In we went to the CAEDM lab, where our friendship had first developed, where we first started to throw staples at each other. (We were shameless flirts.) We walked in, and there was a whistle in plain sight on a table. But there was a problem. Even though it was a Friday night, there were still people in there doing homework. I hesitated, and Kevin said, “You have to blow it.” So I did. A nice loud screech. The tapping sound of people typing stopped, and I could feel everyone looking at me. It felt like eternity before Ian and Emma finally showed up with a rose, a note, and a . . . toaster?

“See, I told you the prize was a toaster oven! Or at least, a toaster!”

“A toaster?” I asked. I examined it more closely. There were bread crumbs in it.

“It’s ours. You actually have to give it back.”

Ian and Emma took some pictures with us and the toaster and then left. I read the note. “Congrats! You’ve finished the treasure hunt!”

Kevin then said, “There are only eleven roses. But I know where the last rose is.” I would hope so.

We drove up University Parkway past the Marriott Center, then turned on 900 East and drove past the MTC, past the temple (wait, past the temple? My suspicion was wrong), and then Kevin took a right and we ended up at the temple after all. Oh boy. By this point I knew for sure what was coming. The butterflies in my stomach began to flutter excitedly. Kevin led me to a bench with another rose and another whistle. I blew the whistle and Kevin pulled a letter out of his pocket. I read it and teared up a bit. When I had finished reading, there was Kevin on bended knee, holding a beautiful ring out. “Kyra Michelle Moon, will you marry me for time and eternity?”

“Yes!”

And that was that! The best treasure hunt of my life ended with the best treasure I could ever dream of! I was engaged to the man I loved! (It turns out he had called my dad earlier that week but failed to mention it so I could still harbor the delusion that he needed to ask.)

This past year has been so happy and so fun, and I’m so grateful to Kevin for everything he has done to make me so incredibly happy. I love him lots!

Scrabble Babies

I've developed a silly habit over the years --- making up ridiculous baby names. For years I insisted that I would name my first daughter Egbertina, for example. When Kevin and I got engaged, the names Kyrvin and Kevira were added to the list of names. Whenever I heard a pretty crazy sounding name, I would ask Kevin, "Ooh! Can we name our baby that?" "No," he would respond firmly, though he would laugh too.

So the game we made up Friday night wasn't completely out of nowhere. Is it a game you would play on a first date? Of course not! Is it a game that would actually help you choose a child's name? I hope not! But it made us laugh, at least.

The game requires scrabble tiles. We used the tiles from our Scrabble Apple set. Turn them all face down. On each turn, pick up up to 6 tiles. Try to arrange them into a name. If you use fewer than 6 tiles (say you don't use the tiles with 'U' and 'X' on them because somehow you ended up with a name like Bill), on the next turn you must use the tiles from the last turn. Everyone's a winner (except for your future baby).

Here's what we ended up with:

Yeah, we really didn't end up with many normal names. Bob is normal. Lanae is kind of normal. Koree is normal enough. But Xobert? Cwuti? Tetano? This game is harder than it looks!

Note that Udeath rhymes with "you teeth", not "you breath." Still an unfortunate name, but not quite as morbid.

Okay, so you wouldn't really use this to determine your future child's name. Then again, you never know . . . your child may like the name Doipai after all.

(and no, we're not expecting.)

There Are Two Sides to Every Taco

Winter Semester of 2010 was an extremely busy one for Kevin and me. We had 13.5 credits together, with 13 of those being junior/senior Electrical Engineering courses (and we both had 3 additional time consuming credits), planning our wedding (or at least responding to all the emails from my mom who was planning our wedding), working, church, trips to Logan and Duchesne . . . and we still had to eat sometimes. A good chunk of the time, our meals were tacos at Kevin's apartment. They've got lettuce, right? . . . totally healthy.

Anyway, by the time Brant and Margaret (Kevin's brother and sister-in-law) invited us to Color Me Mine one night in February or March, tacos had become quite entrenched into each of our subconsciouses. As we perused the shelves for something to paint (absolutely NO MUGS . . . I had spent way too long in apartments with mismatched cups and dishes), we suddenly both glanced at the napkin holder.

It was useful (a must for a home occupied by two engineers). It wouldn't become some annoying mug or ridiculous bowl that wouldn't stack in the shelf, since it wasn't a mug or ridiculous bowl in the first place. And most importantly, it looked like

"A taco!" we said simultaneously. It was decided. The taco napkin holder would be our first real decoration.

As we painted it, we basically let each other paint however we wanted. Kevin took a more methodical approach and I took a somewhat random approach, which is typical of our personalities. At times we'd compare our work and laugh about how differently we'd chosen to paint things such as the lettuce or cheese. (This was when the incredibly profound phrase "There are two sides to every taco" was first coined, which is likely to become a family saying in the same category as "there are always more dishes than you think.") However, by the end, our styles somewhat converged and we had a masterpiece on (and in) our hands.

Oh, how we loved that taco napkin holder. I would point it out to just about every guest who came to our apartment. It was always a welcome guest at the table.

Kevin's side

My side

But the good times were not to last. One afternoon I came home from campus, opened the freezer to see what meat we had, and realized too late that the napkin holder was kind of perched on the top of the freezer door. In horror, I watched as the taco napkin holder fell from the top of the refrigerator, bounced off the counter in slow motion, and then smashed onto the floor with a shattering "CRASH."

Then, silence. I sighed, picked up a broom, swept up the mess, and didn't cry until Kevin came home to the tragedy.

But life goes on. You don't have to have your napkins in a napkin holder. Still, we wanted to recreate it someday.

And that day came last Friday. Kind of. When we went to Color Me Mine, there was no taco-shaped napkin holder. Nor was there a moment of "aha" where we both somehow "knew" what we wanted to paint.

Nevertheless, I think we found something that represents our lives the same way the taco did while we were engaged: a darling little yellow house.

Kevin's side (the windows have shutters over them)

My side (the back of the house)

(and yes, that is an offshoot of Rice Chex in the background)

Just as the taco represented our life while we were engaged, this house represents where we are now (both metaphorically and geographically . . . the house across the street looks a lot like this one). We are starting to build a home together. Each day we discover new similarities and new differences. But each side of the house is needed to make it whole. There are two sides to every taco.

Our ever after is so happily we don't even DISAGREE--our opinions slash preferences . . . may DIFFER, but we defiantly don't disagree . . . we VARY.

Sometimes it's uncanny how similar Kevin and I are. Same major, same interests within the major, same interests in general (piano, reading, nerdy stuff, movies, etc.), similar senses of humor . . . we're even basically the same height.

But just when I start to fear that we're too much alike, we have conversations like the one we had yesterday:

*Lunch time*

Me: "Did you ever watch Fantasia?"

Kevin: "Parts of it. I could never make it through the whole thing."

Me: "Because of the dinosaurs? That was so boring! I mean, it was lame music and then a mud pit would bubble. I hated that part. I'd always skip it."

Kevin: "No, the part I couldn't stand was the Sugar Plum Fairy part."

Me: "What??? That was my favorite! The fairies, the dancing flowers . . . "
Kevin: "I thought the dancing flowers were stupid. Come to think of it, that was the part I always hated in Alice and Wonderland, too."

Me: "That was the only part I liked!!! I can't believe you didn't love those talking flowers."

Kevin: "I really didn't like them at all."

*Stunned silence*

Conclusion: We are not exactly the same. Shocking, huh? Who would've guessed I liked fairies and flowers more than Kevin? Oh well. At least we agree on the things that matter in life, like tacos and chocolate donuts.