My text message engagement story

Happy Valentine's Day! We celebrated by being treated to dinner by a summer pest control sales recruiter. Pretty romantic if you ask me! 
I sure do love my Valentines.

Speaking of romantic, have you heard my engagement story?

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Sorry I couldn't answer I'm with Annie. She doesn't know I am proposing Monday so I can't talk about it on the phone!

I stared at that text for what seemed like forever. I debated whether or not I should tell Spencer that I received his text meant for his sister, but who was I kidding?! We weren't planning on getting engaged until May and it was only the Tuesday before spring break. We had never looked at rings together before, and there was no way I was going to play it cool for 6 more days.

When I told him, he was crushed and I was screaming and jumping up and down with excitement. He refused to actually propose that night even though it would have saved him a whole lot of trouble later and when he left he told me that blowing the surprise felt worse than it did when he dropped an investigator on his mission. Then I was humbly reminded that I was choosing to marry a guy that fresh off his mission.

The next day was just one disaster after another. It involved a failed attempt to set up a proposal due to me getting off work early, a failed attempt in directing friends over text message to set up a proposal while we were at dinner together, and two failed attempts to find a firepit up two separate canyons while driving with me after dinner. This clearly resulted in absolutely no element of surprise and no conversation whatsoever.

"How about First Dam?" I offered. So we drove in awkward, silent anticipation to First Dam which involved a police car flashing his spotlight at us, Spencer dropping my ring that landed one inch away from the end of the dock, and a speechless, "I love you will you marry me?!" and "Just so you know this was like my Plan F!" and "I would have thrown up if that ring dropped in the water!"

And for a girl who hates all most things cheesy, that terribly executed proposal couldn't have been more perfect.

5 more kids and a puppy

Last week, I went down to Salt Lake to babysit my cousins while their parents went to Hawaii. While I was there, I learned a few things about myself:

1. If my kids turn out as well behaved and as easy going as the Sheets kids, then I am going to have 10 more.

2. I never want a dog. I have always told Spencer that we had to have a salary and own a house before we got a dog, but I now have an additional prerequisite: I have to die first. When I told Spencer this, he replied, "But not all dogs eat their own crap!"

3. I can't drive a suburban. Ask the angry lady whose Audi I scraped while pulling out of my parking space.

4. I need to babysit the Sheets kids more often! Jack has slept for 10 hours straight every night since we have been back home. I guess a puppy trying to eat him and 5 more kids giving him extra attention for a week is enough stimulation to knock him out for a while!

Kelly

Kelly Clarkson's National Anthem performance made me reflect on that defining moment in my life when I actually met her.

My favorite facebook comment on these pictures:
"Ah, an Asian tourist with a camera. Typical."

And wasn't that M&M superbowl commercial totally awesome?!

Links worth a look

This is hilarious. 

I don't care what your views are on The Book of Mormon Musical, it is impossible not to like this song.

On a more serious note, read this about Communism, Socialism, and the Welfare State. It is so so good and I promise it is worth your time!

We dance

When I was 12, I made a list of all the qualities that I wanted in my husband. "Likes to dance" made the top five. But then I married Spencer, who happens to be one of those boys who stood around awkwardly at school dances because he was too cool to dance.

My 12-year-old self would be soooo disappointed.

I knew when I married him that his lacking dance quality could be a potential problem in my family. My family dances. Not the professional kind of dancing or anything, just the shake-your-booty-and-don't-care-what-people-think kind of dancing. My family even has a Christmas Eve tradition where you select a song and dance solo in front of the whole family in your new Christmas pajamas.

A month after we were married, we went to the beach with my family and extended family. Everyone wanted to have a dance party but my sister refused to let anyone dance until everyone watched her and Spencer have a dance off. As Spencer bravely danced to Selena Gomez with his 8-year-old sister-in-law in front of his new family, I'm pretty sure that he wished he had married into a family a little less crazy.

Since then, Spencer has gradually become more comfortable with his dance moves, and believe it or not, he can dance! I even have his first Christmas Eve dance solo in his new Christmas pajamas on tape to prove it.

But this post is not about Spencer. It's about Jack. I am teaching Jack before his father gets to him that night or day, awake or half asleep, happy or sad, enthused or completely bored, HE IS NOT TOO COOL TO DANCE!!!

A brag post

My brother, James, has always been way cooler than me and I've always known it. Growing up, the neighborhood boys my age would come over and ask if James could play. My swim coaches at swim team would ask me to go get him so they could see his splits-to-handstand for the millionth time. I guess being able to do that at the age of three was pretty cool. And he has always been able to shake what our mother gave us way better than me. And I now quote Spencer: "I hope our boys get James' tight butt!"


Growing up, however, I tricked him into thinking that I was actually cooler than him. He worshiped me and would do absolutely anything I told him to. On my command, he would wear dresses, kiss the neighbor girl, put on makeup, and participate in all of the lame dances I choreographed for him.

But the main thing that makes James the best and the coolest is that he is kind to everyone. He is friends with everyone and cares about everyone. I have never heard him say one mean thing about anyone. Not even one tiny bit of gossip. Not ever. 

When James was in first grade, his teacher called him the "Prophet Boy," and I would totally roll my eyes because little brothers that are cooler than you and better than you are just so annoying. But you know what? She's pretty much right. I wouldn't be all that surprised if he does become the Prophet one day. But only if my parents are still alive to bail him out when he forgets to feed himself or when he doesn't iron his suit on time or when he waits to pack for his mission travels until the night before. I love James and he is going to be a great missionary in Veracruz, Mexico!

And a couple of videos to prove James' coolness right here and here.

That New Year's Eve Post

New Years is my least favorite holiday of the year. It's so anticlimactic, especially after living in China during the Chinese New Year. Also, because it follows Christmas. And because you stay up until midnight just to shout "Happy New Year!" and kiss, when you can easily just do that in the morning. Midnight is very painful and not necessary. We are sleep deprived over here, people! And maybe just a little boring. Your call.

This New Year's Eve, the three of us went to Olive Garden, wrote graduate school essays, took poor quality photos on the computer, had a short lived dance party, and watched A Midnight in Paris. We were in bed by 10:30 and it was wonderful.

Happy 2012! Maybe next year we'll make it 'til midnight!



By the way, is it New Years or New Year's? Do you bring in the new year or ring in the new year?