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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.
What’s my favorite season? Football season.
So the long-awaited day is finally here and let me tell you, it was like Christmas morning at the McDaniel household. Ryan has been counting down for the past 100-something days. This morning, when the alarm went off, Ryan’s head popped right off the pillow—and he was literally bouncing for joy—Guess what, it’s GAME DAY! And with that, he jumped out of bed and into the shower.
This is one of my favorite seasons, too, and it’s definitely the time I miss school the most. Football games were some of my favorite parts of college, and the sound of the band and crowd in the distance will always take me back.
So in just a few more hours, I’ll be singing Hey Baby! and cheering with the other football fans. I simply can’t wait.
RAPTORS!
A variation of a common conversation in the McDaniel household.
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.
Compromise
Today at Smiths:
Ryan: Jenn, I’m so glad we compromise on things. Like milk. We get 1% even though you liked skim milk.
Me: I love skim milk. Did you like 2%?
Ryan: Um… No. I liked 1%.
Me: Yeah, that’s a great compromise.
Flip Flops vs. Christianity
For the record, I usually don’t write about the crazy things that are said at my work. However, I just couldn’t get this off my mind today, and thought I’d write a response here.
The ladies in the breakroom were going off again. This time on how awful some of the young people in their wards were because…they were wearing flip flops and denim skirts to church. Oh the horror! The vile disrespect!
Okay, snide remarks aside, I recognize that there is a correlation between the way a person dresses and his or her respect for an event. It’s been discussed in conference talks. I know. I wouldn’t wear a swimsuit to the symphony either.
BUT.
Isn’t it hard enough being a teenager without being pecked at by the spinsters in the ward? Is this what we really need to be focusing on? Really? These girls chose to be there, modestly dressed, and listened quietly to the speakers. That, in and of itself, is an accomplishment. I am strongly of the opinion that the youth of the church—especially the teenagers—need their leaders to lead as it says in the scriptures:
“by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; by kindness, and pure knowledge, [...] without hypocrisy, and without guile—reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love” (D&C 121:41–43; while this passage was specifically directed to the priesthood, I believe it applies to all who lead in the church).
Focusing entirely on a person’s outward appearance, in my mind, reduces and simplifies him or her to an unacceptable level. Rather than sniping about a person’s footwear, perhaps our time would be better spent developing a friendship with that person. I’m sure we’d all be surprised by what we learned.
Leap of Faith
So sometimes I have trouble making decisions. (I know—all three of you who read this website are truly shocked at this statement.) I’m not always bad at it. Sometimes I do quite well. For instance, I decided I wanted to marry Ryan after about 4 months of dating and followed through on this decision 5 months after that.
See? A big, life-changing decision and I did just fine with it. I thought about it, figured out what I wanted, prayed about it, felt great about it, dealt with my nerves, and followed through. Two points for classic decision-making strategies.
So why doesn’t this strategy work with my job? It’s pretty much an ongoing problem—I’ve been hating my job on and off (mostly on) for two years now. I think about it all the time, but I have yet to think of a satisfying resolution. Ideally, I’d hear of an opening at an awesome company, ace the interviews, and dance my way into happy employment. However, this is 2009 and unemployment is hovering around 10%. I have a healthy amount of job security, earn a comfortable salary, and have a fantastic boss who is generally supportive of the things I do. Wouldn’t I be crazy to leave that?
Except for the fact that I cry at work several times a month.
In my family, whether or not you like your job is a moot point—you do what needs to be done to earn a living. Ryan, on the other hand, says he’d prefer me happy and working at Barnes & Noble to me coming home grumpy and teary several times a week. However, working at Barnes & Noble wouldn’t do much to advance my career. (Somehow, being a cashier or story-reader—something a 16-year-old without a college degree could do—doesn’t seem like a good career option.) But then again, since the tentative plan is to start a family in a year or two, do I really need to be focusing on what would be best for my career? Shouldn’t I, instead, be doing what’s best for me?
But at this point, what would be best for me? Right now, my salary is allowing us to pay off our cars, build up our savings, and have a little left over for a modest summer vacation. Will I regret, if I leave, giving up the opportunity to create a more secure financial future? Or will I look back and regret that I wasted so much time at a place that has made me so unhappy?
Maybe this decision is so hard because there are no easy answers, no clear direction. Or maybe it’s because I’m afraid to just take a leap of faith—doing what’s best for me and choosing not to worry about the consequences.
