The post about how we met

When you first get married, there is one story that you learn to tell better than any other: the story about how you met.  It’s the first question people ask, and sometimes seems to be the only thing they care about.  (What did you do before you were married?...yeah, no one wants to know, not right away at least.)  I like to think that Andrew and I have our story down pretty well.  We can bounce off each other and we already know who tells what part, when we include what anecdote, and just how long to pause for the appropriate chuckle of appreciation.  Seeing as how this blog will be about our little family, and there are many readers who probably have never met Andrew or heard our story, I thought I’d give you an introduction.

So how did Andrew and I meet, get to know each other, fall in love, and get married?  Let me first give you the one word, short answer: networking.  Yep, you thought it was only something to be concerned with when it came to work.  But no my friend, dating is all about networking.  I could go into greater depth, but this part of the story might just have to be left out for now. ;)

That being said, I don’t actually remember the first time I met Andrew.  Like most BYU based couples, we were in the same ward and eventually became friends.  Then one fateful night in the beginning of October it all began.  It was about 9:00 pm and I was in the library after an especially long day which had included a lengthy exam for my Revolutionary American History class.  I remember sitting in the library thinking, “I don’t even want to be here right now.  I just want to go do something, but it’s the middle of the semester...who in the world is available to do something right now?” And then it hit me: Andrew Selman.  I knew Andrew had graduated the semester before and that he got off work at 5:00 every day (we were friends, ok?  It’s not as creepy as it sounds) and I thought, “Perfect!  Of course Andrew has nothing better to do than hang out with me!” (Not like I was confident or anything.)  Whether or not he actually did have something better to do I’ll never know, but when I called he came immediately and picked me up.

We went back to his apartment, sat on the couch, and spent the next hour or so discussing life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  No but really though, we talked about my Revolutionary American History exam.  We used words like “extralegal” and “geopolitics,” and I found myself amazed at how easy it was to talk to Andrew about my interests...and get this, he was interested in them too!  The deal was sealed once he showed me his Alexander Hamilton t-shirt (a shirt with a picture of Alexander Hamilton that said “Burrn’d” beneath it...get it?), and I knew I had found my new best friend.

The rest is, well, history?  I like to think of our relationship in moments.  I don’t remember what moment specifically made me fall in love with him, I think it was a combination of little moments.  Moments like Andrew tearing up while we watched The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (he’ll kill me for telling everyone that) which melted my heart, him leaving an intense moment during a BYU basketball game to get me a drink, that one time I was freezing cold in the dollar theatre and he literally gave me the shirt off his back so I could stay warm (he had an undershirt on, no worries), and just the way he accepts and loves me for who I am.  Andrew is the yin to my yang, my best friend, my love, and the boy who gives meaning to every country song.  Plus, he tucks me into bed every night and does the dishes when I just can’t handle it (ok, or even when I can handle it...let’s face it, he does the dishes all the time.)  While our lives aren’t perfect and we learn more and more everyday about what it means to be a married couple, we’re in it together and we’re in it to win it.  So really, what more could I ask for?

Confession--And it's a long one

I have a confession to make.

Is that a bad way to start a blog?  Making a confession?  I really don't know what's appropriate because honestly, blogs have never really been my thing.  I guess I'll find out.

My confession--I have issues with blogs.  And by issues I mean that with the exception of a few special blogs (my sister's, my best friend's, the fashionable hair-dresser's who I've never met but whose blog I stalk, and a few select others), I avoid them completely.  Given that this is my situation, you may wonder why on earth I would want to start a blog of my own.  Let me back up and explain.  

When Andrew and I first got married I was determined to be the perfect little house wife.  On a normal day I would get home from school/work about 20 minutes before he would, and those 20 minutes were complete chaos for me.  I would run around our tiny apartment, quickly doing dishes, wiping off the counters, and spraying more fa-breeze than was probably healthy for us to inhale.  Now don't get me wrong, Andrew in no way led me to believe that this was what he expected.  I had just somehow gotten this idea that to be the perfect wife meant that I had to make sure my husband came home to a perfectly clean house, a perfectly home-cooked meal, and a perfectly charming wife. But no pressure, right?

WRONG.  Eventually, the pressure I was placing on myself took effect.  While Andrew may have been coming home to a perfectly clean house, there was nothing perfectly charming about his stressed out, sweaty wife.  I felt like I was one dirty dish away from having a break down.  What does this have to do with my distaste in blogs you might ask?  Trust me, I'm getting there.

About a month after all this self-placed pressure began, I was at the doctor's office with a persistent cold that I just couldn't kick, and, just like I had expected, I completely broke down.  I started crying (which did nothing to help my already running nose) and I pored all of my feelings (something I tend to do quite frequently) on my poor doctor.  Luckily, the man took pity on me, and we began to try and figure out where my idea about what it meant to be the perfect wife had come from.  Don't ask me how we got here, but somehow we ended up talking about the (then) laundry list of Mormon mommy blogs I read on a daily bases.  You know the ones.  The ones with the women with their perfect houses, perfect meals, perfect hair, and perfect children who are always making perfect crafts.  It was just all so dang perfect and without realizing it, I had begun to judge MY life and MY capabilities as a wife by their "perfect" lives.  Yeah, not healthy. The conversation ended with my doctor handing me a tissue and prescribing a 30 day break from Mormon mommy blogs.  Don't read them, he said.  Stay far away.

And so I did.  And guess what?  I was happier.  It was ok that yesterday's laundry was still sitting in the dryer, it was ok that I didn't have anything better than rice and vegetables planned for dinner.  So, it is with that long introduction (too much information, maybe?) that I give you the two things I hope to accomplish with this blog.  One--to not convince you that my life is perfect.  Trust me, it's not.  The slip covers never fit the couch, the kitchen floor rarely gets swept, and I always end up making too much BBQ chicken (yes, it is possible).  And two--to convince you that that's ok.  Not that you have any reason to care about my life, but I believe that in sharing my life, my REAL life (the good, the bad, and the ugly), we can all learn and grow together.

Goodness, that was long.  But there it is, my introduction into the blogging world.   Whether or not you can relate, I hope you'll stay a long for the rest of the ride.  Suggestions?  Comments?  Please feel free.  Like I said, I'm new around here. :)