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.

A General Conference Challenge

"The only things that really need to be accomplished in the home are daily scripture study and prayer and weekly family home evening." -Linda S. Reeves, April 2014 General Conference

Of all the things I got from General Conference, this impacted me the most. Kevin and I talked about it and decided that we needed to include Joseph in scripture study more than we were. We had both been occasionally reading from the scriptures to him at bedtime, but we felt like we needed to do it more as a family.

So, slowly but surely, we're starting to go through the Book of Mormon with Joseph. We read about 4-6 verses, pausing on the interesting verbs and nouns for Joseph to repeat. By the end of the 3rd verse, he usually gets pretty antsy and we decide that that's good enough for the night.

Although it's a very little change in our nightly routine, I really feel like it's made a difference in our lives.

Not visibly, necessarily. Joseph is getting molars, getting older, and getting a feisty streak. Since we started reading scriptures, he's had more tantrums than ever. In some ways, it seems the added measure of peace we've gotten has been canceled out by tantrums. But because that added measure of peace has been internal, impervious to screaming, it has made dealing with tantrums that much easier.

What I love most is that Joseph actually gets some of what we're reading. As President Eyring said 10 minutes after Sister Reeve, "Young children are often more sensitive to the Spirit than we realize." He would get excited every time he had the chance to say "Messiah." He somehow caught on to what we were talking about in 1 Nephi 10 and started prodding us "Jesus bastize. Jesus bastize" because he could watch that 2 minute Bible video 100 times without getting bored. (It's up there with Winnie the Pooh and "leddi go.") Although many of our spiritual discussions end up talking about Happy Easter Eggs instead of Happy Easter, or raisins and candy when I ask him to say "resurrection," it's cool to see that he is learning, and he really does care.

Anyway, I recommend it!

Strive

Note: This is dedicated to everyone who is finding out for sure where they are going for school. And especially my sister Kiana, who has never been to a math camp.

A few weeks into my freshman year, I attended a dinner for scholarship recipients. As I walked in, I saw a few familiar faces, but I still felt very out of place and awkward. What was I doing here? What were we all going to talk about during dinner?

The answer? AP classes. I could get down with that. It was the most boring conversation topic in the world, but it was fairly innocuous. Then a bag of candy was passed around, and we were all supposed to take some. Well, I like candy, so I took a bunch. Then they announced that we weren't supposed to eat it, and that for each piece we took we had to say something about ourselves. I froze in horror. I had like twenty jelly beans.

Most everyone had four or five jelly beans, and they quickly got through their introductions. The smart ones who also grabbed a lot just hurried and gobbled up their candy so they only had to say four or five things about themselves too. I wasn't that quick on my feet, so I had to reach far into my life to find things to say that were the right amount of impressive, same as everyone before me. By the end it was a stretch. It was pretty horrible for everyone involved, I imagine.

Finally that whole jelly bean thing was done and they talked about other things. "We've studied it over the years, and 6% of Presidential Scholars end up marrying each other." Suddenly we all started looking each other over, trying to gauge what our potential future spouses might look like. After my jelly bean debacle, I felt pretty safe from that fate, at least among this group.

The final activity of the night was making mission statements. "I have a suggestion," I said to my small group. "Can we not use the word 'strive?'" They looked at me like I had suggested drowning a kitten. "I feel like I hear that word a lot and I'm kind of tired of it." It seemed to be a buzzword among all the freshman orientation-type people -- "Strive to achieve greatness. Strive to help the community. Strive to live the Young Women values." I was just plain sick of it.

 "Well, it's a good word," was their response, and the resulting mission statement used the word about four times. I felt like I had stuck my foot in my mouth enough so I didn't protest any further. At the end of the evening, I felt a huge sense of relief that it was finally over.

. . . Interestingly enough, I did end up marrying another Presidential Scholar (not the same year, so I don't know if that counts toward the 6%). I also eventually had conversations with some of these people that never even touched on AP classes or jelly beans.

And I still don't like the word strive.

3 years and 51 weeks

That's how long I've been married as of today. It is also exactly the amount of time between when I first started dating and the day I got married. In other words, I have now spent half of my "dateability" married.

And, for some reason, it's been on my mind a lot lately. Obviously, these last 3 years and 51 weeks have been way better than the preceding 3 years and 51 weeks, and I've wanted to talk about what I've learned and what I wish I had known and yadda yadda yadda. I even spent the last hour or so trying to write a blog post about it. But since writing coherently is currently the bane of my existence, I think I will save those couple thousand words as a draft (one available upon request) and just sum it up as this:

The skill set required to be good at being asked on dates is not the same skill set required to be good at being married.

But it's good to have both.

Also, hanging out is a better way to get to know people than going on awkward restaurant or frisbee golf dates. Just make sure to eventually learn how to interact one-on-one.

The end.

Art

Sometimes, I try to write stuff.

. . . And then I realize I don't have enough information, perspective, or organization to really say what I want to say about the topic at hand. And so I pile up the drafts, wondering if I'll ever manage to get anything coherent out.

But in the meantime, I share pictures of Joseph. And now that he's figured out how to use the camera, it's also pictures from Joseph! Some of them are surprisingly artistic. And then there are the ones where it seems he couldn't take a picture unless something was holding the camera steady, i.e., it was smashed against a couch cushion. So there are those.

I took this one, not Joseph. You can tell because it's blurry.

Kevin took this one. You can tell because it's not blurry.

Joseph took this one. I helped a little bit.

Most pictures look like this. 

Hey, the lens wasn't smashed into the couch for this one!

Eh, who needs to talk about complicated stuff anyway? Pictures are way more fun!

Lasagna

Time for another recipe -- lasagna! This one is a bit pricier what with the ground beef and variety of ingredients, but we sure like it and it sure lasts a while! So it's worth it.

I can't really think of any changes we make to it. I do really like the sauce you make to go into the lasagna, and I imagine if you're looking for a homemade spaghetti sauce recipe this would work really well.

My Imaginary Well-Dressed Toddler Son

This week has been a great one for fashion at our house. Armed with my high-tech point and shoot camera, I've been able to capture many moments with my avant garde son, who has a lot in common with his friend Quinoa.

Joseph prepares for his African excursion with animal mannerisms and high water pants.

While discussing different types of foliage, Joseph suddenly discovers that nothing will make his bare legs and socks blend in.

Joseph contemplates the lighting in his next independent film.

Dressed in couture camouflage, Joseph spent the morning embracing nature.