Wedding Day

I was just remembering something.

After Michael and I were sealed in the temple,

there was a window of time for me to put on jewelry and makeup

(I knew the mascara would just get cried off)

and put the finishing touches on everything.

My mother was with me in the crowded, mirrored bridal room.

I remember that she was urging me to hurry up,

reminding me that everyone was waiting for us.

I didn't mean to dawdle;

I just remember feeling so very much at peace.

I felt so calm.

I felt so clean.

There wasn't a force in the world that could rush me...

I felt completely wrapped up in happiness and true love.

Salesmen and Barf

Hey, now that May is over, I guess I could review my resolutions, right? :D

Hmm...it's maybe not a good thing that I'm at a point where doing that makes me want to laugh...

Frugality? We're sort of slacking.

Harp practice? Better than before!

Strong body? YEAH!

Man, we're so proud of ourselves! We've been working out 5 days a week for 6+ weeks now, and it's wonderful! We're not too shabby on the nutrition department, either.

For a while, I was confused at this mass of fat that seemed to be GROWING on my belly--so not fair with all those negative pregnancy tests--but while talking to my sister Liz, I think I've figured it out! When you lose weight, the belly fat is typically the last to go. So while I lost everywhere else, maybe my stomach stayed the same and therefore looked horrible compared to the other shrinking parts! :) And I think I've finally leapt past that, too. I feel good, I look healthy.

And I think our recently improved health played a key role in preventing us from getting so sick this last weekend!

Our family reunion was so wonderful, such a blessing. So great that I had a hard time even writing good journal entries because I would have written SO many pages of all the happy things (it's hard for me to pick them apart, too)! And during all of that wonderful happiness, we had sick kiddos and a few sick adults. Flu sick. Barf and diarrhea sick.

I feel blessed; Ender got sick after we got home, and I had allergies bad enough that I couldn't smell any of the barf! Awesome.

Poor baby, though. When I was changing a particularly sewageful diaper of his, Michael said "Ender, you gotta stop diarrhea-ing!" Ender replied apologetically "It just got out."

I went off to the grocery store to pick up some soda and saltines (and 100 other things I didn't realize we needed...of course), and when I got home, a salesman perfected his nonchalance by watching me unload bags and asking "I'm just curious..."

RIGHT. No you're not. I mean, I don't mind salesmen too badly if they just come out with "Hey, I'd love to sell you this!" Fine, then I don't feel so bad saying "No. Goodbye."

But he asked me where we go to have our oil changed and stuff.

"We do it ourselves."

It probably still would cost more than the great deal he had to offer me...

"Well, we don't even have our car here! We're using my parents' car!" (and I'm not telling you that we're swapping back tomorrow).

He goes on about something, but at this point, I've stopped listening because Michael calls to me from the back of the house: "Heeeeelp!!!" Uh-oh. I interrupted the salesman:

"I'm sorry. I'm not interested, and I have to go now because my son just threw up and my husband needs my help. Have a nice day!"

...and he was gone!

Wow.

I think I'll use that next time even if Ender didn't throw up! :D

*in my mind I was more assertive and powerful...in real life, it might have been more apologetic and smiley and polite. But who wants to hear about that? What matters is how it played out in my head, right? :D Cause in there, I'm sooo cool...

Mommy, Daddy, Baby

I laid on the floor with Ender and watched "Barnyard" with him...it was kind of a weird movie, nothing impressive.

But there was a part where the main cow's dad dies (sorry to spoil it for you), and Ender looked at me with teary eyes and a heart-breaking little frown--the kind you get when you're about to sob, you know?--and said "Are dey a'right?"

Oh, Ender...

I almost said "Yeah" but I couldn't. I started to get choked up myself, however dumb the movie. Ender at least understood that it was a daddy and a "baby," and he understood that something happened to the daddy... I had to cough and look away to keep my tears from crashing through the floodgates. I finally said "The daddy is hurt."

I don't care how stupid the movie was; I will not call it a waste of my time, because Ender really liked having me next to him. He rested his head on my lap, he enjoyed a "picnic" on the blanket we set out in front of the TV. And I enjoyed how sweet and sensitive he is.

And...well, the movie did make me laugh just a few times.

I love that Ender will call a group of toys "Daddy pwane, Mommy pwane, baby pwane!" I'm so grateful that the pattern of a family is not only recognizable but necessary for him. I wish every baby could have that wholeness.

You know how many movies have broken families? I know why...it started as a way of reaching out to the less-than-perfect people so they'd relate to the movie and feel accepted...and now it's considered normal. Having both parents is now pretty unusual in a movie, and MORE unusual is having both parents get along well. I like to hope that what's shown in movies isn't really everywhere in the world, but sometimes I feel like it's less and less common.

Michael and I have never fought. Truly, we've never even argued. What's the point? It's not worth it. Besides the fact that it's simply not in our natures to be like that (since that point can become moot in the situations where we do things against our natures--which like anyone, we do...like, it's totally against my nature to harm my body, but sometimes I eat a whole bag of mini Milky Way bars. Yes, sometimes. Not just once or twice).

Um. I lost that sentence.

Besides the fact that it's simply not in our natures to be like that we understand that there's a faster, better, and in the end, EASIER way to resolve misunderstandings.

First of all, I'm grateful that Michael and I work on the same wavelength concerning how we raise our family, manage our lifestyles, and repent over little things like eating whole bags of mini Milky Ways. We're so very similar in character. It's wonderful.

Secondly, when we have miscommunications, it's okay. It happens! It happens often enough because he's a man, and I'm a woman. Whoa. Species juxtaposition? (Just kidding) But we've built it into our minds that when that happens, we automatically forgive each other, because honestly, we each thought we were doing the right thing. And that's sweet. That's romantic, even, to me.

Michael and I like to sometimes say "I have a confession..." and finish it with a teensy weensy thing that's nowhere near Confession Boundaries. But it's handy; it's become a tender thing for us, so when we actually feel guilty about something that's less cute than eating a bag of chocolate, it's easier to begin with "I have a confession..." and immediately, we just can't harbor ill feelings. And for whoever's confessing, those words alone lift more than half the burden, and suddenly you want to explain all your feelings.

It's so healing for a relationship. Communication--especially REcommunication after MIScommunication--is absolutely necessary.

I'm so grateful Michael and I have a beautiful marriage. It makes life rosy, charming and happy, even while we go through harder times. Michael helps me be better, and I help him be better. I'm a good Mommy for Ender when I have Michael's help...I'm sure Ender is grateful he has nothing missing in this little family. I know I am.