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Thinking twice
So, after that last post (for the record, I am not in love with Tim Tebow—see the comments section for the real story), I told Ryan I was definitely having second thoughts about giving him admin access to the blog.
His reply: I am glad you are thinking twice about it. My job is to make you think twice about everything.
Everything, Ryan?
Tebow Lover
I have come to the conclusion that my sleepy-head wife loves Tim Tebow more than me. It’s hard to argue. After all he is athletic, smart, Heisman winner, and has one national championship to date. All these things considered, I was still surprised when Jenn said that her favorite husband was Tebow.
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 give him way too much credit
Since I’ve been sick, I’ve been extremely warm at nights, so most nights I’ve gone to sleep using only a sheet. Well, the night before last, I woke up really, really cold. As I lay there, debating whether or not it was worth it to sit up and reach to the end of the bed to get my blanket, Ryan sat up, grabbed the blanket, spread it over me, then rolled over and was instantly asleep again.
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.
Notice anything?
Nope, I’m not waiting for a compliment on my hair or new sweater. It’s much better than that.
Nate was able to convince my website to stop dispensing medical advice. I’m not clear on the details of everything involved, but I’m pretty sure it included some serious ninja skills. To recognize the change, I thought I’d update the blog design. What do you think? I’m excited about it.
Everybody go tell Nate what a great guy he is.
Thanks, Nate!
Apparently I’ve been hacked
So recently it has come to my attention that when some of you attempt to access my blog, this is what you see:
I feel like I need to apologize. Apparently my blog’s been giving out medical advice—and it’s not even a medical professional. It probably just has some shady medical degree from some online college or something. The only drug I’ve taken in that excerpt was the prednisone, and let me tell you, that was good stuff. Ryan affectionately refers to it as the “love drug” because when I was on it, I told him I loved him about every three minutes. (And I really meant it every time!) But other than that, I really can’t tell you about its side effects on estrus cycle functional groups. I’m sorry I led you on.
Anyway, point is, we’re working on getting things cleaned up so you can read all of my brilliant thoughts without being distracted by my medical fraud. (In this case, “we” is mostly Kartchner. But sometimes me. ‘Cause I’m a helper!)
Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles
Something happened last night that I thought was never, ever going to happen to me ever in my married life: Ryan cuddled with me all night long. That’s right, for the entire 480-ish minutes we spent sleeping, we cuddled. ALL NIGHT. HOLY SMOKES!!!
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.
Feeling Gleeful
While Ryan and I don’t watch too much TV, we do have our shows that we always catch on Hulu or Netflix. (Does anyone watch normal TV anymore?) Heroes gets me with its plot twists and 30 Rock makes me laugh until I can’t breathe, but the show that really makes me giddy is Glee.
I think it has everything to do with the music. See for yourself.
(Sorry about the ads. But it’s worth it to see this clip, I promise. And, Sam, I have no idea how you could hate this show.)
The way I like it…
One of the best parts of my day is when Ryan finally gets home from work. He seeks me out and gives me big hugs and then we’ll snuggle on the cuddlebag or the bed. And even though we email and text throughout the day, he still asks me about my day. It’s a chance to vent and laugh and decompress and just enjoy being back together. It’s awesome.
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…
One Year Later
It’s the anniversary post! For those of you who don’t like mushy things, take a look at this while I wax sentimental for a moment.
Continue Reading
Just kidding: Summer is my favorite. Followed by *BYU* football.
So it’s a little late in coming, but I wanted to post an update to my previous post.
So remember how last week I was so excited for the football game? Well…that all changed when these dumb frat boys forced their way into the seats behind us. Before the game, I swear, these people got to the point of drunkenness where they ceased drinking the liquor and started bathing in it instead. And, as a bonus, that liquor-bath may have been the only bath they’d had in weeks.
A few minutes after they’d settled in to their stolen seats, THEY STOLE OUR WATER! Right out from under our seats. And then, as soon as they’d finished drinking it, they tossed the empty water bottle back at us.
Shortly after this—it’s still only the first quarter, mind you—they all came down with a serious case of Tourrette’s syndrome, unleashing a string of the ugliest profanities with no apparent target and for no apparent reason. (Interestingly, “BYU-lovin’ Cougar fan” was right up there with the big-time words.) In the middle of their cursing, they’d try hitting on some pretty girls in the crowd, and they couldn’t believe why the ladies were so reluctant to return their advances.
And did I mention they stole our water? And then they threw nacho cheese at us. Such a mess!
Let’s pause for a moment: These things just don’t happen at BYU games! I realize that they probably happen at 95% of the games across the country, but not at the football games I’ve been going to for years. When I think of football season, this is decidedly not what I think of.
Anyway, this story has a somewhat-happy ending. Apparently this is enough of a problem at the U that they have a phone number you can call or text to report disruptive behavior. So we called and security came and kicked the frat boys out! We definitely enjoyed that frat-boy-free fourth quarter.
Needless to say, I’m excited for Saturday and the return to my home stadium to see some live Cougar football.
