All Because Two Faculty Brats Fell In Love

Today is the 14th anniversary of our quazi-arranged marriage. Almost 16 years ago, in college, which is an amazing adventure--if you leave home--two faculty brats met in an Honors Humanities class. My next-door neighbor slash academic advisor convinced me taking this class was a good idea(that's how it works when you're a faculty brat--your advisors and professors are your neighbors). And Ben enrolled in the same class because his mom directed the Honors Program. The storybook beginning was that we first held hands on the way home from a Friday evening class trip to the Honolulu Academy of the Arts. When he asked me out on our first real date, he laughed when I told him my address. His family lived in our house years before our family did. We'd been dating for all of two weeks when we started hearing variations on this theme: "You? With you? Cute! It's not often that faculty brats marry each other, ya know. Your parents must be proud." I loved talking to him, loved his smile, and was blown away by his genius. (I remember quizzing him before tests and he'd repeat full paragraphs word-for-word from the textbook.) He owned a pick-up and willingly offered to help people in his ward.

We dated for a year and were engaged for eight months. We were married in the Hawaii LDS Temple. Life these days is as near bliss as it can be when you're raising four young children. Ben patiently endures my inability to consistently rid the kitchen sink of dirty dishes. I look past his construction zone perfectionism. We honestly like each other. We work, play, and pray together.

This summer Ben has little free time with 13 hours on plus 8 hours (his goal) of sleep. He has three hours a day of discretionary time, much of which is spent eating, getting ready, and commuting to work. With that schedule in mind, I was truly surprised to wake up to breakfast in bed of grilled steak and eggs. What a sweetheart! And he showed up this morning with chocolates. I retaliated with Oreos when he woke up today. We're celebrating our anniversary this weekend--a babysitter is lined up and Ben got the whole night off (for a while is boss was only going to let him take a few hours off!) and we're going to dinner and to see comedian Brian Regan perform live. (Google him or look him up on youtube if you haven't heard of him.)

Spoiled

Look how quiet my girls are being! And baby just fell asleep. And she slept for 12 hours last night. AND I'm so spoiled rotten.

Remember?

When I was a young whipper snapper we added "--n't" to words. And it was funny! So if someone said; "That's cool!" you would reply; "Cool---n't!" meaning that you didn't agree. I wonder if such cleverness can be attributed to the same people who came up with "You stink!"

It seems like the end of the school year prompts a lot of "Remember when. . ." conversations. R. is finishing up third grade next week. At the end of third grade I thought I was pretty old. That was the summer we moved to Hawaii. I have a son that old!?!

S. "graduated" from preschool tonight (seriously, there was an evening program where S. and another girl were masters of ceremony, and the school's principal even handed out diplomas in her cap and gown). One of the songs the children sang I remember R. sang when he was in preschool. Having a preschooler is such amazing fun. I remember when my boys were in preschool and how adorable they were.

I think I do a decent job holding onto these memories. Until J. asks me a "remember when. . ?" question. Oh, sure, I remember---n't!

That kid remembers everything. C. turned two today and J. told us details about everyone's second birthdays, listing presents, locations, and cake toppers. Cake toppers are pretty much my favorite part of birthdays--I love, love, love putting toys and candy decorations on their cakes. I'd love to just sit J. down and pick his brain. Once information goes in, it sticks. Quick story: a few years ago, he woke up and told me that President Hinckley turned 97 years old that day. Somewhere I guess he'd learned President Hinckley's birthdate and was just keeping track. (He does the same with his grandparents, good friends, and Andrew Jackson--but that's a long story.) I do remember stuff, honest. But since I'm not J., today was a good reminder to write things down so I'll remember. My one-time adorable preschooler is almost a fourth grader. And my baby is two years old.

People tell me "children grow up so fast!"

Could it be true?

My Love/Hate Relationship

I hate my DVR--it stopped recording Wipeout when Didi Wong was within 10 seconds of beating the deadbeat daughter's time. Who won? Don't ask me. I feel bad hating DVR like that, especially because I love it. Ben's been working nights for two and a half weeks, which means no forward progress on the drywall. Now instead of being productive or getting enough sleep, I've become a DVR zombie. I DVR yoga, huge chunks of HGTV, The Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien a.k.a. "You-twit-face", Law and Order, and even the *yawn-fest* Brian Williams' White House special. Love Obama but "We're buying hamburgers!" Really? And you know it's bad when I DVR for the whole family: movies for Ben, Dora for the baby, America's Funniest Home Videos and Spongebob for my preschooler, and my boys DVR everything from Titanic exploration documentaries to World Cup qualifiers (soccer). Admitting I have a problem is the first step, right? I don't think I could quit cold turkey, but I need to seriously cut back. I've already stopped watching Jon & Kate Plus Eight (Kate's brother and sister-in-law have asked viewers to boycott: http://www.nationalpost.c/ ). An interesting take on reality television and children.

Time to "publish post" and go to sleep (or get back to my DVR).