then he swooped her up just like in the books

John and me in line for a ride at Lagoon this past summer. I have always loved how perfectly I fit right underneath his arm.

I want to tell you about the man that I get to call my husband. He doesn't get a lot of attention on this blog (a fact that he is undoubtedly quite happy about), but today, on our 5 year anniversary, I want to give him some of the credit that he deserves. A couple of years ago I wrote down the story of how we met and fell in love (read that here if you missed it), but today I just want to share some thoughts about this most incredible, beautiful man that I married.

This is a man who does not raise his voice in anger. I have never ever heard him yell.

This is a man who cleans the bathrooms (always), washes the floors (always), and starts loads of laundry without being asked (sometimes).

This is a man who has faithfully risen at 3:00 AM for the past two years to go to work (at one of his 3 jobs, mind you) and who has never complained about it. Yes, he has expressed how tired he sometimes feels, but I have never once heard even the slightest complaint from him about having to get up for work. He just does it, happy to provide for us, and anxious to make me feel like he lives to take care of his family.

This is a man who goes into our baby girl's room at night to smell her. That might sound weird, but I think it is a beautiful illustration of his tender feelings for his baby-- that he just loves the sweetness of her scent.

This is a man who memorizes poems. This was one of the first things that immediately stood out to me about John-- what other 18 year old guy memorizes Ulysses or God's Grandeur or The Tyger? He has dozens and dozens of beautiful poems filed away in his brain. He rarely recites them aloud (and will never perform on command), but one of my favorite memories is of laying on his lap on a beach in Hawaii (right before he left on his mission) while he quietly recited poem after poem after poem to me. I love knowing that I married a man who appreciates and values beautiful words.

This is a man who loves sports. This might seem weird, but it was seriously important to me that I marry someone who knew more about sports that I did. I know a lot about sports. Like probably more than any girl you know. I dated lots of guys who were just casual sports fans and didn't get into it the way I did. I was always bothered by that. I wanted my man to be manly! And in my world that means having that competitive and athletic side.

This is a man who covered his eyes when he was a little boy and women's ice skating was on TV. He was worried that the costumes on the skaters were immodest and thought he shouldn't look at them. This makes me laugh now, and I tease him about it sometimes, but really, wouldn't you love it if your sons did the same thing? I pray that George has the exact same moral compass as his father.

This is a man who changes diapers and cleans up body fluids from our children without even blinking.

This is a man who tells me he loves me every time we talk on the phone. Every single time.

This is a man who loves it when I wear baggy long-sleeved tee-shirts. He notices when I take some time to dress up, and is good to tell me he thinks I am beautiful, but honestly, he has a hard time keeping his hands off me when I am just wearing a plain old tee-shirt. I love that I can feel comfortable and beautiful when I am in his arms.

This is a man who tempers my passion with his calm. And even though I sometimes want him to get all up in arms with me about something, I mostly am just really grateful for his level-headedness and clear thinking.

This is a man who, upon hearing about the way a jerky DMV employee treated me, immediately called and talked (calmly and level-headedly, of course :)) to a supervisor just because it was important to him to stand up for me (I didn't even know he had done this until well after the fact).

This is a man who calls my mom just to chat. (What son-in-law does that?)

This is a man who I knew would be an affectionate and dear husband because of the way he treated his own mom and sister. I have very specific memories from high school of him giving his mom and sister kisses on the head or cheek and thinking to myself that that is exactly the way I would want my future sons to treat me and their sisters one day.

This is a man who can make my heart skip a few beats just by winking at me from his seat on the stand at church on Sundays.

This is a man who eats anything and everything I cook and always expresses his gratitude to me for making dinner. If he particularly likes something I've made he makes sure to make a big deal out of it, ooooing and aaahhing over and over :).

This is a man who makes me feel comfortable in my own skin, who has never ever said one negative word about the way I look. Even when I am 9 months pregnant and feel gigantic, I really do believe him when he says that he finds me just as attractive then as he does when I fit into my skinny jeans. I have never once felt like I am not attractive to him.

This is a man who gets me glasses of ice water whenever I ask (and I ask a lot).

This is a man who saves the best/last bites of yummy things for me.

This is a man who loves to play jokes and tease people. He secretly changed his name to "Bonesaw" in my mom's phone and then proceeded to call her for a few days and leave her totally baffled at who "Bonesaw" was. He used a scary voice and told her he was coming for her and her children until he couldn't keep up the charade any more and cracked up laughing.

This is a man who knows the names of all the old ladies in our ward and makes a point of shaking their hands, calling them "Sister _____," and making them feel like a million bucks. I am certain they all have crushes on him.

This is a man who hugs people. That is something that so many of my extended family members have commented on-- how you can always count on a hug from John.

This is a man who, after spending a few days stewing over the fact that we had almost gotten TOTALLY ripped off by a heating company, felt bad about how frustrated he was with them (though he was completely justified in being so), and one night in our prayer asked for forgiveness for being prideful and thinking he was right (which he was, by the way).

This is a man who is so, SO funny. He makes me laugh all of the time. And not just kind of, sort of laugh-- I am talking like a full on, stomach muscles are sore, eyes are watering laugh. He really does have the quickest wit and best sense of humor.

This is a man who, despite his deep spiritual sensitivity and convictions, is also able to just be real. He appreciates the occasional naughty joke, and he laughs hysterically at the completely inappropriate things that my brothers say. Before I knew him well in high school I wondered this about him-- sure he was the most incredible person I knew, but would he also be a prude and think that some of the things I said were totally out of line? I soon found out that, oh no, he certainly wasn't a prude. And I love that about him.

This is a man who cut up peaches and crushed up ice for me (by hand) after I had given birth to my babies, and brought them to me in my bed so I wouldn't move. He was constantly telling me I was "over-doing it" and would try to get me to lay down whenever I would attempt to do anything for myself. I used to think that men wanted their women to be tough, and I still think that they do in some ways, but I never knew how much it would mean to a man to just be able to take care of his wife. I am so grateful I married a man who truly finds his purpose and happiness in taking good care of me and our babies, and I am learning to be better about just letting him do that sometimes.

. . .

I am not writing this all out to try to paint the picture of a perfect man. He isn't perfect, and we don't always see eye to eye about everything. Maybe you can tell by now that he isn't necessarily the most romantic guy on the planet, and my list wasn't full of all the times he has bought me flowers and taken me on extravagant trips or dates. Those kind of things aren't really his forte, I guess, but I am okay with that. I am okay with that because of how good he is at everything else-- at doing little things constantly and effortlessly that show his deep devotion and love to me and our children. I can honestly say that I am married to the best person that I know. The very best. He is so much more than I could have ever hoped to have, and I sometimes feel inadequate to be his wife.

We have had this conversation more than once-- that I cannot see how he could possibly love me as much as I love him because of the kind of person that he is compared to the kind of person I am (and I'm really not trying to put myself down here-- I know I am a fine person. But have you met my husband?)-- and he always responds by telling me that one day I will understand his feelings for me, that one day I will know the depth of his love for me. But here is the truth:

I already know it.

Even if I can't understand it, I know it. I cannot doubt something that is shown to me time and time again, every single day of my life. His love for me is laced seamlessly and beautifully through the hours and minutes of my life, woven into each and every good thing that is mine. It is in all the things I described above, plus a thousand other little details that, when added together, comprise all of the beauty and happiness in my life.

I hope that he can feel my love back for him just as tangibly.

5 years into our marriage, happier and fuller than I have ever been.

bathing and waiting

A few Saturdays ago I woke up to pounding in the bathroom. I went to investigate and found my two boys ripping out the tile and bathtub. This was a project that we had sort of toyed around with, but I had no idea my husband was just going to go for it one morning. I think it was some form of male nesting, because he really wanted me to have a brand new bathtub to soak in during the early stages of labor and to be able to bathe our newborn in. I wasn't going to complain, that is for sure (although my nesting instincts were going completely crazy while I had to deal with the sheetrock dust and debris scattered about all through my house).

G really does think he is an indispensable asset in these projects, and he is so lucky to have a daddy that not only doesn't mind him being in the way constantly, but actually delights in teaching his little boy how to sand mud down and mix grout properly.

G wasn't exactly useful at all points of the project, however, and he was occasionally shut in his room with paints and/or play dough. But after only a few days of work and/or art projects, we have a new bathroom that looks like

this:

and G has loved taking baths

and then wrapping up in his dragon towel afterward. 

I have also greatly benefitted from this new bathroom. I would not have ever gotten in our old tub (it was so small and old, and while it worked for bathing my little boy, it was not appealing for a relaxing bath AT ALL) , and I am pretty sure I have gotten in the new bath at least daily (sometimes twice a day) for the past week. I don't often post about how truly remarkable the man that I married is, but you all should know that I am filled to the brim with gratitude for my dear husband, and to me, he sets the sun.

(Clearly I am still pregnant, in case you were curious :). Lots of contractions lately, but nothing crazy. Still just waiting. Bathing and waiting.)

just another reason

that i love my husband:

he helps me put curlers in the back of my hair where i can't reach.

lots more blogging to come. we just got home from disneyworld so we are catching up on laundry, cleaning, etc. it will be blogger's turn soon.

"True love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops. Everybody knows that."

Last night as when I climbed into bed it was long after my two boys had gone to sleep. I went in and checked on Baby G and then made my way under the covers next to my husband. As I waited for sleep to come my thoughts drifted back to the events that found me in this place, this place as wife to the man I dreamed of and mom to the baby I've wanted forever.

I first met the man that would become my husband when we were 15. We were at an Alta football game and I was wearing a blue puffy vest with khaki pants. He was tall, skinny, wore glasses, and made me laugh from go. I knew I liked him from the minute I talked to him.

Through high school we hung out with the same crowd and got to know one another. My first kiss belongs to one of his best friends. His first hand-hold belongs to one of mine. Even though I was dating someone else my mom recalls me coming home one night after being with all my friends and telling her all about this "friend." She says she knew from that moment on how much I cared about him and respected him. I remember that conversation going something like this:

Me: Mom, he is SO amazing. He goes home early on the weekends sometimes just so his mom won't be lonely! What boy does that?

Mom: He sounds really great. Do you like him?

Me: Yeah right mom. He likes fishing, not girls. I would never have a chance. The only reason he even hangs out with girls is because his guy friends are hanging out with us.

That pretty much sums up my sophomore and junior year with him. I had a secretcrush on him, dated all his friends, and hoped one day he would take me fishing.

At the end of our junior year we both got called to be on seminary council at our highschool. That was the catalyst for our friendship deepening. As we spent more time together doing stuff for council my secretcrush turned into secretlove. Certainly I wasn't in love, but I did develop a depth of love and respect for him that I hadn't ever felt before. The whole while I was sure he was oblivious to my feelings, and most definitely not reciprocating of them.

One day our senior year all the universities from around the state came to talk to the seniors about eligibility, admissions etc. We went around to the presentations together and talked about how it seemed too stressful to start planning to go to one of those universities so we started this inside joke about the Western Family College of Failures and Fishermen (WFCFF). I made applications for it, we filled them out, I applied to be the school mascot (a brown trout).

Long story short, one night I ended up at his house to deliver part of the WFCFF application (which for some reason included mini-bananas). We ended up getting into my car and talking. And talking, and talking, and talking. We finally ended up sort of confessing having feelings for one another, but mostly just in terms of respecting each other a whole lot. Apparently we talked for a long time about it because the next thing we knew his mom opened the front door all groggy and in her bathrobe and asked J if he had any idea what time it was and if he was with a girl named "L. T." Oops. It was 3:30 in the morning and my dad had been out searching for me (thinking I had been in a car accident because it was completely unlike me to be late and not let them know) and finally started calling around to my friends' houses.

Anyway, after J called and apologized to my mom, and after I got over feeling like I had ruined any chance I had with him by keeping him out all night long, our senior year continued and our feelings did, too. Once confessed, we swore secrecy because since we were both on seminary council we were not technically allowed to date each other. What a blessing that was! It made all the phone calls, emails, and little secret get-togethers so exciting and pure. We were just becoming best friends. We pretended like our friends hadn't noticed our secret. "Relationship? What relationship? Of course I don't like him like that!" Most (if not all) knew better.

We graduated and it took him exactly 3 days to kiss me the first time (and that was probably only because he was on a fishing trip). Oh! I still get butterflies thinking about that.

We dated all summer long and it really was like a dream to me. I couldn't believe that he would call me to hang out every day. We fell in love that summer, and then we had to move away to college.

He went north to Logan and I went south to Provo. I thought that would be the end of my fairytale. I thought that we would surely grow apart living so far from each other. What I didn't know is that distance doesn't stop two people in love, especially if they are 18 and irresponsible. We talked on the phone daily. We saw each other every weekend. We said we were dating other people too, but I'm pretty sure we can count the number of dates we went on with others on one hand. I think it is safe to say that the distance actually made us closer, made us realize really how much we wanted to spend every moment together.

He was turning 19 in June and going to be leaving to serve a mission for 2 years. I knew that was coming so I was really looking forward to the 2 month gap in between us both coming home from college and him leaving. We were going to have the best 2 months together.

Instead I moved to Hawaii to go to school for those 2 months. I didn't want to. I hated leaving him, knowing that when I got back we would have only days left together. But I knew I had to go. I had received an undeniable answer that Hawaii was the place for me, that I needed to start the separation between us before he actually left so that he could be as prepared for his mission as the Lord needed him to be. I think I cried the entire flight across the ocean.

Hawaii's beaches soothed my soul and I learned to love it there. That doesn't mean that there weren't tearful phone conversations (my roommates can vouch for that one), but it didn't take me too long to realize that I had absolutely made the correct decision. Still, it hurt because I could feel J slowly pulling away from me. I could sense a shift in our relationship. I was not going to go home to the same boyfriend I left-- he was being prepared to be an instrument in the Lord's hands and I knew things would be different.

I read "The Princess Bride" while I lived in Hawaii and wrote down two passages from it in my journal at the time. They were about undying love and I remember thinking that I hoped to be able to say them to J one day.

He and his parents flew out to Hawaii the last week I was there and we were able to go on the vacation of a lifetime together. I remember walking around some boat docks with his hand in mine and someone saying, "You two must be newlyweds! You still have that dreamy look about you." I remember wishing so bad that that was true, knowing that really, it could be the beginning of the end.

When he left on his mission he did so completely unattached. We were, in no uncertain terms, free to live the lives we needed to without each other in them. He wanted me to date with my whole heart, even give it to someone else if it was right. I wanted him to focus his mind 100% on the work he was doing, even if it meant tucking away thoughts of me for two years. Those were hard decisions, and I have to give most of the credit for the maturity of our relationship to him. He has always been wise beyond his years.

The two years went by rather quickly. I spent 8 of those 24 months in Romania. Letter writing was more frequent in the beginning, but by the end it had tapered off considerably. His parents forwarded his emails, and I devoured them, hungry for a portion of his spirit. Not a night went by that I didn't pray for him and pray that he would somehow know of my love. But he was there, and I was here. I dated a lot. I dated two people quite seriously. I dated one person VERY seriously. There was a marriage proposal on the table for the taking. In the back of my mind though, I knew I had to at least see, at least give it a chance with J. I couldn't make any decisions until he was home from Brazil and I had at least given it a shot.

Wow, he was weird when he got home. It really was incredibly awkward. Don't ask me what I was thinking when I decided to take his mom up on her invitation to go to Yellowstone with him and his whole family 3 days after he had gotten home. Seriously, why did I do that to him? Why did I do that to myself? There was one highlight on the trip (though if you have heard the story of it I am certain you wouldn't actually call it a highlight) that gave me a glimmer of hope that he still loved me but would just take a little more time to get there.

As soon as he did get there though, things happened quickly. He had come home on July 6th, we were engaged the last Wednesday in August, and got married 3 years ago today, November 18th.

Last night I was remembering how 3 years prior at that very moment I was laying in bed next to my cousin talking to her about how that was my last night to go to bed a single woman-- the next day I was going to be the bride of the man I had hoped to have for 6 years.

At our wedding brunch I came prepared with my journal from 2 1/2 years prior. I opened it to the page where I had scribbled down the quotes from "The Princess Bride" and I stood and read them to my new husband. This is what I said:

“I love you so much more now than twenty minutes ago that there cannot be comparison. I love you so much more now than when you opened your hovel door, there cannot be comparison. There is no room in my body for anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore you, my knees shake with blind affection. My mind begs you to ask it something so it can obey. Do you want me to follow you for the rest of your days? I will do that. Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl. I will be quiet for you or sing for you, or if you are hungry, let me bring you food, of if you have thirst and nothing will quench it but Arabian wine, I will go to Araby, even though it is across the world, and bring a bottle back for your lunch. Anything there is that I can do for you, I will do for you; anything there is that I cannot do, I will learn to do.” (Buttercup to Westly)

“I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you. I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction. I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids.” (Westly to Buttercup)

I remember feeling the depth of those words that day-- truly I had lived my life with the prayer that one day this man would look at me, and had spent years where he was my last thought before bed and my first thought in the morning. And there I stood, looking at this man, knowing that I had just been bound to him, and him to me, for all eternity. I would never wonder about our love again.

I am so grateful to say that 3 years later those words are even truer. Today I love him more than I did on our wedding day that there cannot be comparison. He has given me all I ever wanted in this life, and my happiness is so wound up in him and in the family life we have created together. I pray for years and years more of him.

The title of this post is also from "The Princess Bride" in case you didn't know.