Tag Archives: Wife

Life of a Married Mormon Editor

7 am – Waking up in the morning. Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs. Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal … Okay, only joking. My apartment is wayy too teeny to have more than one level, and I never eat breakfast before going to work.

7:00 am – Press snooze.

7:30 am – Drag myself out of bed and shower + shave my legs. I “do” my hair (i.e. run my fingers through it), put on my makeup, and while getting dressed, wonder aloud if these new shoes are going to be too sexy for my very business casual office. This prompts Husband to mock me by singing “I’m too sexy for my office” followed by “I’m too sexy for _my boss’ boss’ name_.” I’ve got some important meetings with my boss’ boss, who is in town, hence the need for me to wake up an hour earlier than usual.

8:00 am – Gather my stuff together and try to convince Husband to take something for lunch. I look in the fridge and find practically nothing. My suggestion of humus and carrots is rejected, queso and chips is accepted. (Although, I do ask Husband to please put the queso back in the fridge if he decides not to take it.)

My lunch is on the company today, so I head out the door to my car and curse the sexy shoes for the blisters I’m sure are already forming on my big toes. If I ever move somewhere with public transit (crossing my fingers for a move to a big city sometime in my future), I’m going to have to throw out half of my shoe collection.

8:10 am – As I back the car out, Husband runs out to grab his wallet, which he left there. I tell him this just confirms my suspicions that he’s going to buy lunch instead of taking it. He says, “Please, Lauren, like queso and chips can really last me all day.” I tried; didn’t I?

8:25 am - Walk into work. My day includes a few meetings, playing around with the CIA World Factbook statistics, and reading about Andorra. Oh, and looking awkward while trying not to draw attention to the fact that I’m taking awkward phone photos of myself at work.

5:10 Leave work.

5:30 Navigate around the massive road construction thats been surrounding my street for a year (yeah, try being woken up at 6:30 am every day by the melodious sounds of heavy construction),

get home and notice THIS sitting on the kitchen counter, send picture text to Husband so he knows what he did(!),

sit on our ugly futon and bemoan the fact that I feel like I need to do something spectacular tonight, but I’d rather take a nap. I read blogs on my google reader app (some of my current faves include I Still Love You, Cotton and Curls, A Cup of Jo, Oh Happy Day, and NYC Taught Me) while I wait for Husband to get home from work.

6:15 pm - Think about cleaning the kitchen and realize that a bag of food I took to a barbecue on SATURDAY is still sitting out. Major fail. This deters me from cleaning the kitchen, so I go back to sitting on the futon and playing with my phone.

6:30 pm - Husband gets home and we talk about a site he’s designing. (Note, sister, the use of the web design sketchpad you gave him for his birthday!)

7:15 pm - Skype with my parents and my little sister (who is living with them for the summer). We usually Skype on Sundays, but I got home too late last night to talk, so we postponed it for today.

I tell the fam I need to take a photo for my Day in the Life post, and my mom immediately leaves the screen and refuses to be in it (she had just finished mowing the lawn). She says she’ll stick a hand in front of the camera so you know she was there.

I love my family!

8:00 pm - I change into shorts, collect the books that are due at the library, and ride my bike with Husband over to return them. Then I ask him to take a photo of me on my bike riding past the library. The photo below was probably take 10, and also the point at which I realized I would never make it as a fashion blogger (or anyone else who has photos taken in a public place).

8:30 pm - We decide to go to Awful Waffle, a new waffle/crepe place in Provo, for dessert/my half-birthday/Family Night. And yes, we could have gone to 7-11 for free slurpees, but I hate slurpees, and I consider it highly offensive that 7-11 gives out free slurpees every year on my half-birthday.

9:15 pm - The waffles are actually not awful. But they don’t really compare to true Belgian Waffles. (I can say that in a snobbish way because I lived in Brussels for a few months.) Husband realizes that his bike somehow got a flat tire in between the library and Awful Waffle, so we walk our bikes home. I run inside to get the bike pump and while watching Husband pump up the tire, remember that I didn’t eat anything for dinner and start to feel sick from the humongous waffle I consumed. This provides a convenient excuse for me to go inside, where the A/C is.

We finish our Family Night activity (something that Mormon families try to do every Monday night) by studying the scriptures and saying a prayer together. Then I procrastinate a little before studying for the GRE (which I’m taking in two weeks… yikes!).

10:30 pm - I wimp out on studying and decide to go to bed.

From the Archives: Read more about me being married, a Mormon, and an editor.

Married to the Birthday Boy

Due to the fact that I’m leaving to go on vacation in one hour(!), I’m a little pressed for time today.

But I did want to give a shout-out to this guy, who turns 25 today!

Wearing a wedding ring is so hot right now.

I’ve written some silly things about being a wife before, but (at the risk of getting too mushy) I just wanted to let you all know  that I LOVE being married to this guy. He’s my best friend and after 18 months of marriage, I still want to be with him all the time!

AND he was totally worth getting up at 6 am to make waffles for, even when I realized half-way through we were out of eggs and had to run to the grocery store.

Advice to Newlyweds

About the Author: Donna is the mother of Lori and has been happily married for almost 33 years. She is an avid reader of Life in Labels, which she fits into her busy schedule of reminding a 19 year old boy to do his laundry, cooking for Lori’s upcoming graduation party, hitting the gym with her husband, and speaking on the phone to her identical twin sister daily. Oh, and she’s also a notary public, a paralegal, and works in title insurance. Supermom much?

It was February, 1976, when I met my future husband.  We had a terrible first date to a car show which included seven of his closet friends.  I was intrigued by his choice of where a first date should be held and with whom.

I don’t remember all of  our subsequent dates, but rather remember hours of talking.  We were similar and different at the same time.  We became engaged after only dating six months (though we didn’t officially tell our parents for another year) since we were so young.

We started our lives together as husband and wife on October 29, 1978 and became a family.  We got married to stay married.  There was never a thought of “if this doesn’t work out”.  Our success in our marriage was due to a lot of work.  We both knew that issues in a marriage were personal and to be resolved by us not extended family or friends.

Looking back at our marriage these 33 years, I realized that relationships are not constant and must be nurtured in order to thrive.  Being a couple first reinforces the strength of the marriage bond.  The success of the marriage is paramount in order to have success in raising a family together.

My advice to a newlywed is to never forget to act like a dating couple.  Have respect for your spouse and your marriage.    

The Bride’s Advice

About the Author: Nichole is a friend of Lauren, Lori, and Denise from high school. She was the first of our friends to get married, and now lives in Richmond with her husband and adorable little girl. Everyone we know already blog stalks her, but if you’re going to insist on pretending that you don’t, you can see her blog here.

life in labels wedding week

When people ask me about my wedding and for wedding planning tips the first thing I usually say is, “Don’t stress about all the little details because you won’t remember any of it at all!” I usually describe my wedding day as a blur because I’ve experienced wedding day memory loss. Literally. I can’t remember much of that day at all! All my memories come from my pictures. (Note: In order to capture all those moments you were oblivious to, one thing to stress over and spend some money on is good photography.)

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a miserable day (at least…I don’t think it was!). I just feel like I was drugged. I would like to think that is the result of how extremely happy I was—a state of utter bliss—and that therefore, I missed things because I was just in my own “la de de…everything’s perfect” world. While this is likely, because I was happy, I think the real culprit of the wedding day memory loss phenomenon, which all brides (and even grooms) can attest to, is a combination of pre-wedding day anxiety and complete wedding day exhaustion.

I mean, who really gets good sleep the night before they are getting married? Although I was confident in my decision, I felt like I was holding my breath for the whole week leading up to my wedding. I was a basket case of nerves and emotions! It was so stressful fussing over flowers, bridesmaid’s dresses, reception décor, food, families, photography, colors, cake etc, etc … only to not remember all those details and then later stew over how I should have changed this or that.

Factor number two in the wedding day memory loss phenomenon is pure exhaustion! The lack of sleep and all the pre wedding stress all comes crashing down on you after the wedding. You can finally take a huge breath of relief and then all you want to do is crash (at least I did, after I threw up a few times!).

I find it hilarious that the best day of your life is filled with the following:

  • Standing on your feet most the day
  • Taking a million pictures until your mouth hurts from smiling (truly)
  • Eating at a table in front of everyone (whose idea was that?) That is, if you’re lucky to eat anything at all.
  • Fiddling with your hair and makeup all day to make sure you look just right
  • Not to mention the pressure that comes from knowing everyone is checking out how you look in your dress
  • Making blubbering, sappy, and later regretful speeches.
  • Greeting a million guests (half of which you don’t know) who say the same thing and ask the same questions
  • Temperature which are usually less that pleasant (summer weddings anyone?)
  • Stuffing not tasty cake in each other’s faces
  • A car that’s “decorated” (aka totally trashed) by your friends
  • The awkwardness of everyone knowing what you will be doing that night…and some even commenting on it. (Hello!? My grandma is standing right next to me!)

Really? Why do we put ourselves through all this? We feel pressured to pack in these sometimes trite ceremonies (ie: bouquet toss, garter retrieval) to an already fully-packed day.

Cake Cutting Wedding

And why? (cue the Fiddler on the Roof music) because of tradition!!! Humm..tradition. Maybe tradition is a good enough reason. Maybe the wedding is not all about the bride! (Whaaat?) But, it is about family, and celebrating the beginning of a journey. It’s about letting my wonderful parents celebrate the marriage of their daughter with everyone they have ever met…even if I haven’t met them. It’s about sharing tears and laughter as you see friends and family grow. I personally love attending weddings, so maybe that’s what weddings are for. Is that why we stress, worry, and tire? For everyone else?  We create our own crazy day “all about us” for others to come enjoy and celebrate? (Hey- at least you come out in the end with some gifts!)

family wedding

Overall, I would say a crazy exhausting day is a small price to pay to have a day that you may not remember, but you can feel how special it was. I do love celebrating our anniversary. The day we became us and will be forever. Okay, I guess that day wasn’t so bad after all! ;)

wedding, bountiful temple

In-Law

From the first time Husband invited me to California to the planning that went into our last trip, being an in-law has caused me a ton of [often unnecessary] anxiety.  He’s the oldest child and the first to get married, so it’s been just as new an experience for his family to have a daughter/sister-in-law as it has been for me to have parents/brothers/sister-in-law.

Being someone’s in-law is a little tricky because, while you aren’t directly related to and don’t have years of experience with that person, you’re still stuck with him/her for a very long time.  And you don’t really have much say in who becomes your in-law, either.  Luckily, I ended up with great in-laws (on both sides of the family)!

One of the things that I liked most about my husband when we were dating was that I felt like we were raised with similar values and traditions.  While our families are different in a lot of ways (and those differences do come up frequently), they are also very alike.  And I feel like it’s pretty easy for us to fit in with each other’s families.  Though we may occasionally argue over whether the East or the West Coast would win in a fight or the correct way to serve cake, we almost always agree on how we’d like our future family to be — we want it to be like our families.

NerfGunBattle

Right before the nerf gun battle we had over Christmas break -- I'm not usually a fan of doing "boy" things like this, but when in Rome ...

This Christmas was my first Christmas away from home, but I was barely homesick at all.  My in-laws were really great about asking about my family’s traditions and implementing some of them in their own celebrations.  I got goldfish in my stocking, pizza for dinner on Christmas Eve, and even a brief moment of playing dress up as Mary in the Christmas pageant.  And I got to enjoy their Christmas traditions, too–including visiting with Santa at the neighbors’ house on Christmas Eve.

Family with Santa

We're all laughing at Santa, who was a little tipsy when he stopped in southern California.

I’ve realized over the past year that being an in-law doesn’t mean that you have to agree with everything your spouse’s family does or doesn’t do, but it does mean that you need to learn to appreciate the good things about them and the fact that they raised your spouse to be the person you met and fell in love with.  It’s been kind of fun to get to know my in-laws.  I love hearing for the first time the stories that have become family legends.  And I love having a whole new group of people to rely on (not to mention the extra presents!).

Wife

Things No One Tells You When You Get Married #47

Sometimes you will try really hard to make everyone happy by planning (months in advance) your drive to the in-laws for Christmas.

You’ll agonize over how much time you’ll be able to take off of work and whether your in-laws will be mad that you aren’t staying as long as they’d like you to.

You’ll work out all of the little details, including finals schedules, work schedules, carpooling, anniversary plans, family plans, and being back in Utah for a wedding.

Finally, after much thought, you will decide to leave on the Monday before Christmas.

You’ll drive your husband insane by asking repeatedly if Monday is okay with him.

You’ll carefully mark the date in the Google Calendar that you and your husband share.

Then, about a week before you’re scheduled to leave, your husband will ask you, “Hey, should we leave for California on Sunday?”

10 hour drive

Wife

Sunday was our first anniversary.  I think I’ve finally cast off the newlywed label and become a real wife!

Lights at Temple Square

We celebrated our anniversary by going to dinner and to see the lights at Temple Square in Salt Lake City.

The big one year marker means Husband and I have survived:

1,261,440,000 blinks of an eye,
31,536,000 seconds,
525,600 minutes,
8,760 hours,
365 days,
52 weeks,
26 fortnights,
and 1 whole year as a married couple!

We’ve also been through:
6,509 miles in the car,
3,001 laughs,
766 gchat conversations,
628 text messages,
234 tears,
102 arguments,
57.5 credit hours,
19 trips to Bed, Bath and Beyond,
13 packages of Oreos,
8 dance parties in our living room,
7 midnight milkshake runs,
6 flights,
3 job interviews,
2 apartments,
2 cars,
1 overflowed toilet,
1 graduation,
and we’re still 1 happy couple!

Newlywed

Just-Married

Husband and I were married last December, so I guess this label is nearing its expiration date for us.  Soon we’ll be an old, married couple. (I suspect that we already act like one.)

We were married in Salt Lake City, Utah, which seems a crazy place for a December wedding, but it was kind of an in-between point for us–I’m from northern Virginia and he’s from southern California.  We also both have lots of extended family living in Utah.  Oh, and there was also the added benefit of getting to get married in the Salt Lake Temple.

(c)2007 by Michael Provard.

Nbd.

After all of the wedding festivities, we drove to spend the night in a Salt Lake hotel.  We couldn’t find parking on the street, and should have used the valet service, but since the car was all decked out with soda cans, paint, Oreos, and the words “Just Married!” painted all over it, we were too embarrassed to use the valet service.  Shocking, I know.  SO, we parked our car in a parking lot down the street.

The next day, we walked down the street to retrieve our car.  As we drew closer, I noticed that it was the only car in the parking lot.  Then I noticed the sign that said overnight parking ended at 7 a.m.  (In case you were wondering, no, we did not wake up at 6:30 that morning.)  I started to panic … just a teeny bit.  Husband, did you know about this? (“this!!!!?!?!” being the punctuation I was really thinking of, but of COURSE, being the model wife I am, did not articulate.)  His response was (and still is, actually) very unclear on that topic.

We rushed to the car, looking for evidence of a boot (you know, those nasty metal things that mean-spirited, evil towing companies attach to your tires) or a ticket.  (Side note – who are these people who decide to work for a company that monitors parking?  It’s like wanting to work for a collection agency.  Breaking hearts and emptying wallets all over town!  In Provo, the parking authorities make enough money that they have their own little parking authority jeep that they ride around in south of campus and write people tickets for parking six inches too far away from the curb, parking in a vistors’ spot for too long, having air fresheners hanging from the rear-view mirror, being a poor college student and owning your own car, etc.)

Anyway, not to leave you hanging in the climax of the story or anything, but we were safe! No boot or ticket in sight! Hooray! Only, guess what we did find when we walked to the other side of the car, box of tissues stolen from the hotel in hand, wiping off the paint and Oreos, one by one?

Our window was SMASHED. Yup. Small, back window. Right through the middle of the heart someone (probably my sister) had drawn.  Not to explore the psychological implications of someone who, obviously, hates marriage and sunshine and puppies and happiness, but REALLY?! Who smashes the window of a “Just Married” car? Were they trying to doom our marriage to FAILURE?

Luckily, everything turned out fine.  Nothing was stolen.  We were able to patch up the window with a cardboard cereal box we had in the car. (I wasn’t about to go on my honeymoon without my beloved Honey Bunches of Oats, people!)  We did have to break the Sabbath to buy some duct tape for the cardboard, but we figured that since we were sinning and shopping at a gas station anyway, we might as well also buy a bottle opener to open the bottle of sparkling cider someone had given us. (You know, so we could toast to ourselves and our marriage–Mormon-style, I guess.)  We didn’t even have to deal with fixing the broken window.  Husband’s uncle, who is one of those good-to-know people with amazing connections, had the window magically fixed for us while we were away.

What is the moral of this story, you may ask?  The point?

Even when the window-smashing, happiness-haters* smash your car window on your wedding night, keep calm and carry on.  Happy things are on the horizon.


*Please note that if you, yourself hate marriage (and happiness), and feel inclined to go hunting for small, decorated cars with cans trailing off the back in the middle of the night, I bear no discriminatory feelings.  Please don’t come for us again!