Now, Ryan’s quick-to-fall-asleep abilities have already been well documented by this point. Since he was so sweet, just sleeping on my shoulder, I just let him be and proceeded to finish my button. And then went on to stitch another three buttons. The football game went to halftime, and I just left it on. Ryan stayed asleep, not even moving a muscle, for another twenty minutes.

UNTIL.

The ESPN halftime show moved on to discuss other games around the country and talked about Iowa, Florida, and TCU. Then the announcers said, “And another good team from the Mountain West, the University of Utah.”

And Ryan’s head just popped off my shoulder, mostly awake, and attentive to everything the announcers were saying.

Seriously?! You’ve got to be kidding me.

One romantic evening, in the late spring of 2008, Ryan surprised me with a dozen of the longest long-stemmed roses I’d ever seen, followed by a lovely dinner, a night at the symphony, and a quiet walk through temple square. After several sweet words and tender kisses, Ryan stopped, reached into his pocket (my tummy was doing backflips at this point), and then…pulled out the lens cap to his camera. While he claimed he “wasn’t doing anything on purpose,” I’m pretty sure he did it to see the look on my face.

After that experience, I was convinced that if he did propose, it wouldn’t be for a while.

The next day, Ryan, took me on a picnic up the canyon at Silver Lake under the pretense of shooting pictures with his new camera. Getting there was like turning back the seasons—down in the valley, spring was in full bloom and everything was green. The top of the canyon, however, was still a winter wonderland.

The scenery was beautiful and Ryan was able to snap some fabulous pictures. After he had finished, we moseyed around the lake and ended up standing on a bridge, hand-in-hand. We had the entire lake to ourselves—there wasn’t another person in sight—and the sun was just starting to dip below the mountains. It was truly a beautiful and simple moment.

At this point, Ryan pulled me in for a hug, and I felt his heart racing like I’d never felt before. Ever. Did I realize he was about to propose? No, no I didn’t. He had so thoroughly convinced me that he wasn’t proposing that my first thought was: The man I want to marry is having a heart attack. I immediately stopped listening to the sweet things he was saying and started examining him—is his face purple? Is he wheezing? Suddenly being all alone on a lake several hundred yards from the car seemed like a horrible idea. I certainly wouldn’t be able to drag him back to the car in a timely manner, and it would take an ambulance quite some time to get up to us. I decided that it was time to go, then and there.

I tuned back in to the sweet things he was saying, waiting for an appropriate moment to interrupt, when I noticed he was reaching into his pocket. That was when it finally it dawned on me—his heart was beating so strong because he was proposing…and I had missed it!

I had to interrupt him and confess why I wasn’t paying attention. After a lot of laughing, I asked him to repeat the sweet things he had said earlier, and he, for the second time, asked me to marry him.

Of course, I said yes.

It was the best decision of my life. This past year of marriage has been even more comfortable and more fun than that first year was. We’ve settled (in a good way) into roles and routines that work for us and we’ve figured out how to play even amid the most mundane tasks (like housework). We’ve been able to have some amazing vacations and really enjoy this time while it’s just the two of us.

Ryan is just as supportive as he’s ever been, amid crazy church callings and stressful editing deadlines. He brings me sunshine every single day, and I couldn’t be happier.

I am so lucky.

Happy anniversary, Ryan.

In my opinion, the best approach to birthdays/Christmas/Valentines, etc., is to simply have a discussion beforehand on if we’re exchanging gifts and, if so, what the spending limit is. Not particularly romantic, but way better than being plagued by worries of “Did I spend too much? Not enough? Maybe I’ll get just one more thing. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten that one more thing. Maybe I’ll buy three things and let him choose. Maybe that’s lame. Maybe…” and so forth. This way I can just focus my worrying on whether or not he’ll like the gift. Life simplified.

So yesterday Ryan and I were talking about whether we were exchanging gifts or cards and I mentioned that I’d love it if he did something romantic to mark our anniversaries—i.e., give me two flowers since it was our second anniversary, three for our third, and so forth. Just something smaller that marked the number of years we’d been married.

He thought about this for a minute or two and said, “I’ve got it! Every year on our anniversary, I’ll give you breakfast in bed and you can have an extra strip of bacon for every year we’ve been married.”

While I love the breakfast-in-bed idea, I’m not such a fan of eating 50 strips of bacon on our 50th anniversary.

Ryan (very sleepily): Are you okay?

Me: Not really, I had another nightmare. I killed someone and couldn’t get into heaven.

Pause. No response.

Me: But it was just a dream and not real life, though.

Ryan: Oh, that’s definitely good thing.

(Yes, yes it is.)

At this point, he sleepily rubbed my head, turned over, and immediately started snoring. I, on the other hand, tossed and turned for another hour before the alarm went off. After about 30 minutes of not-sleeping, I asked him to snuggle over and comfort me. To his credit, he complied with my request—without really waking up.

Jenn and I found a new favorite game, which consists of asking what the other person’s favorite this and that is (in case you are wondering Jenn’s favorite color is clear, her favorite food is also clear and her favorite color of water is, surprisingly… clear!) Anyways, the other night, while I was getting dinner ready, Jenn fell asleep. After about 15 minutes I thought I should wake her up so she would be able to edit later on. In order to keep her awake, I thought I would play her favorite game with her. As mentioned before, much to my surprise, when asked who her favorite husband was (I was surprised it wasn’t clear) she said Tebow. I did double check and ask again. She only reaffirmed that he was in fact her favorite husband.

Needless to say, I am no Tebow but second to Tebow is nothing to be ashamed of.

I was amazed—did Ryan really just tend to my needs in his sleep?

I marveled at that as I fell back asleep—what exactly was it that tipped him off? Did he notice I was sleeping on my hands? Did I not notice I was shivering? I concluded that I was just a really lucky girl to have a husband who cares so much for me that he could notice things like this in his sleep.

Well, the morning came and left in a rush, and I didn’t get a chance to ask him about his kindness until we were getting in bed last night. His reply:

Did I really do that? All I remember from last night is realizing I had both corners of the blanket, so I spread it over you hoping you wouldn’t notice I’d stolen the covers. I just didn’t want to get in trouble.

So. Here I am thinking he’s the greatest man alive for taking care of me and he’s really just looking out for number one.

I sure love that man.

To understand the awesome significance of this, let me explain two things. First, when I was single, I used to imagine myself snuggling up against my husband at night and waking up in his arms in the morning. Cuddling at night was among the things I most longed for.

Second, right after the honeymoon, as soon as Ryan and I started sharing my queen-size bed, he made it extremely clear that he needed his s-p-a-c-e and that sleeping next to me was too warm, too restrictive, too terrible to be borne. Not only that, he would wake up several times a night and grump at me for being on his side of the bed—even when I wasn’t. Needless to say, my romantic idea of snuggling all night was quickly replaced by my preference for an agreeable bedfellow. At this point, I’ve become content with a bit of cuddling before bedtime, a good night kiss, and maybe a hand to hold as I fall asleep.

But last night—wow. He fell asleep spooning me and even though my shoulder was tingling, I just lived in the moment until I, too, fell asleep. Throughout the night, while Ryan rolled over and over in his sleep like he always does, his sleepy-self would always snuggle back over to me. Did I get woken up more than normal? Definitely. It was the happiest interrupted sleep I’ve ever had. After only 377 days of marriage, Ryan has fulfilled this longed-for-but-abandoned dream. And it was even better than I had hoped.

I am so lucky.

As an added bonus, both our brains are a bit fried by this point in the day and we (mostly Ryan) end up saying things that (while only mildly funny at any other time)  have us laughing until it hurts. Like yesterday…

Ryan: So how was your day today?

Me: Well, work was miserable, but home is spectacular.

Ryan: That’s the way I like it. [Pause] Wait…

Okay, remember this?

Turns out that was last year. Seriously, where did this year go? It feels like we were married just a little bit ago. Of course, it also feels like we’ve been married forever, which is a really weird dichotomy. But here we are, celebrating our first anniversary. Somehow I don’t quite feel old enough to be using that word—an anniversary still seems like a mom-and-dad thing, when mom would wear her perfume and dad would take her out to dinner. But ready or not, it’s here and I couldn’t be happier.

I can say without hesitation that this year has been the best year of my life.

Sure, he rolls on my hair, can’t stay awake to save his life, and sometimes steals all the covers. He’s an incorrigible tease and a complete goofball. He is also the kindest, funniest, most patient, and most fun-loving man I have ever known.

Each day, he brings me joy. He holds my hand as we go to sleep at night, stretches my back in the morning, and sends me emails and texts throughout the day. He plays with words to hear me laugh. He enjoys my quirks. He kisses me after prayers. He makes the bed in the morning and takes care of the other little things around the house that always escape me.

Really, this year has been charming and filled with dancing in the kitchen, daydreaming about the future, and laughing at silly songs and inside jokes. I have never felt like so much was possible, but I’ve also never been more grounded. Ryan is, in every way, the perfect companion for me and my very best friend.

I am so lucky.

Happy Anniversary, Ryan.

Me: Ryan, remember how you said you’d do that one thing?
Ryan (obviously lying): Yeah, I don’t remember that…
Me: You do too! You said…
Ryan (interrupting): Rar!

What really makes the Rar! is how he’s a normal person one moment and then Rar! and he’s a raptor—complete with gnarled fingers for claws and erratic head bobbing. This continues until I either “agree” with him or change the subject.

Right now I think this is entirely hilarious, but I laugh now knowing it won’t be funny in the future when I tell our three-year old to pick up his toys and he responds with a raptor growl…. Ryan promises he won’t teach this to our kids.

We’ll see.