What Bugs a Bridezilla

Last night I sent my mom a text.  It read, This is turning into another Bridezilla week.  Her reply: Oh Lord.  It is only Tuesday.  It will be ok, don't let stupid people get to you. Some days, weeks, and months, are better than others, I suppose.  October through December was bridezilla-filled, and I think I'm getting that way again.  I think I'm doing a great job at masking it, but it's poor Joe and my mom who have to hear about it via phone call or through 100 text messages.  There are certain parts that I'm freaking out over and I don't know why.  Joe's infamous reply is usually, "What is it exactly that you are stressing over?" or "So?  Who cares!"  That's the part where I start screaming back, "I care!  Why am I the only one who cares?  Why aren't you listening to me!"  That is typical bridezilla-gone-nuts, or in my case, a Tuesday.

There is one month, three weeks, and one day to go, to be exact.  I am ready (for the most part), but my new-found stress is I am not confident that everyone else is.  Maybe I should just remind my vendors for a fourth time. Maybe I need to invite people verbally before the invitations go out.  Maybe people think they have plenty of time to figure it out.  I'm here to tell you that it is coming sooner than you think so if you have issues, concerns, questions, speak now, or put on your big boy/girl pants and figure it out.

We had the DJ finalization on Saturday (but I'm sure I will finalize my finalization at least two more times).  Like all of my vendors, he is completely awesome and showers me with compliments to help lower the crazy.  After I furnished him with a copy of the play list, detailed with song, artist, what hour-block to play each song in, and how long each song is, he said, "with your personality, I can't fathom anything will go wrong, because I could see you actually killing a person."  Joe started laughing hysterically, and I replied with, "thank you."  In my head, I was quickly revisiting my other conversations with my vendors and hoped that I struck the fear of God into them as well.  I'm really not worried (that much) about the vendors because of two things: I remind them every chance I get what day/time it is, and I made sure to get the owner/manager of each to come to the event instead of a regular employee.  To me, everyone needs to start somewhere, but unfortunately, I'm not taking a chance on my wedding; I need a professional, thank you.

The DJ asked me what I thought a perfect wedding was.  My reply was simple, "I want all of my guests to have a wonderful time."  He felt that was unusual.  "Don't you want to have a good time?" He asked.  "I will if they will, but I don't want anyone to be bored, or hot, or hungry, or mad.  I want them all to have a nice time."  So hopefully, my guests will have just that: a genuinely, nice time.

I think that everyone can take away one positive and one negative aspect of every wedding and reception that he/she has attended.  It's all about the couple's personality, and of course, budget, but my gosh, are some people tacky!  And then there's others that you didn't expect to be classy, and they were!  Listed below are things I personally dislike, but it's your wedding, your business, and only you (and the social media world) will have the photos of the glorious/hideous event that will remind you forever!

Things that bug this Bridezilla:

• When save-the-dates are nicer than the actual invitation.
• Invitations being sent out closer to the event than four weeks.
• Engagement photos that show too much PDA.
• Engagement photos that are just tacky (bad colors, poor positions, outfit choice, etc.).
• Long lines that include bridesmaids and groomsmen (what do you say to them)?
• Long lines because people are yapping (I promise not to).
• Skimpy/tacky food (the couple shouldn't make people drive AND get dressed up for a stupid fruit kabob).
• Several toasts made throughout the evening.
• Crazy DJ's constantly plugging their business.
• Pictures of the bride and groom EVERYWHERE.
• Baby pictures/video of the bride and groom growing up.  Do your guests really care about what you looked like in the 3rd grade?
• When guests bring all of their kids and plan on using your event for their all-you-can-eat dinner buffet.
• If you're going to have cupcakes, have a regular cake as well.  This tells me it's a reception, not a birthday party.
• When guests and/or bridal party take off their shoes and walk/dance around.
• Guests who have something important going on in their lives and somehow the attention gets shifted on them instead.
• Vases that have fake pebbles, rocks, or glass beads in them as the table decorations.
• Hypertext (quotes, names, any type of text everywhere).
• When guests try and tell your vendors what to do.
• Too many DIY projects gone wrong.  If I can simmer myself down and realize that I can't do everything...you can as well.  Just because you took a good picture in junior high does NOT make you a photographer...just because you made cupcakes for a birthday party does NOT make you a cake designer.
• Thank You Notes.  I can count the amount of thank you notes I've received on one hand.  Rest assured, you will receive one because it's the right thing to do.

After all is said and done, there will be things at my own wedding that I wish I could have done better.   But feel free to tell me it was wonderful just the same.

Is it Better to be Lucky Than Good?

"It's better to be lucky than good," says Lamar Gillett, the only P-35 pilot in World War II to shoot down a Japanese Zero. "I was lucky I was behind the Zero instead of in front of him. I was lucky when I landed back at Clark that the guys who were shooting at me didn't give enough lead. I was lucky my C.O. on Bataan sent me to Corregidor to get the chewing-out he was in for and wasn't there for the shelling that killed him." As a survivor of the Bataan Death March and three years of Japanese captivity, two years of it spent as a slave on Shikoku, Lamar Gillett is a lucky man indeed (Cleaver).

Some people have all the luck.

Joe and I always arrive at the same conclusion, but our paths getting there couldn't be more different.  I vowed never to enter into a relationship with someone whose future was unknown.  The mere idea of it was incredibly scary for a planner such as myself.    Then, enter Joe.  Six years ago, he was managing his family's restaurant when the economy took a turn for the worst and people stopped going out to eat.  I was at the restaurant nearly every day towards the end, and the fewer the people that came, the more I saw the hurt in Joe's eyes.  I didn't know what was next, but Joe certainly did.

Joe never mentioned if he was scared, or depressed, or worried, but then again, I worried enough for the both of us.  All I know is I got a call one day during the summer while I was in New York, and Joe told me he was going to be a manager of Family Dollar.  "I was just at the right place at the right time."  And so the story of Joe, the lucky one, continues.

After working for Family Dollar for three years, he was told that he had reached the top.  "There's no room for advancement, so I have to try something else."  He was optimistic, I was worried...again.  Would he be able to find something he enjoyed?

And then he did it...again.  A new restauranteur in Salt Lake asked for Joe's help setting up his new restaurant.  It seemed like the perfect match and Joe seemed happy...at first.  But then the restaurant started failing.  It had nothing to do with Joe, but he took responsibility for it and I think it reminded him of his own restaurant.  It was time for Joe to move on. 

"I want to change my career path," Joe said one evening.  Secretly dying inside I asked him what he wanted to do.  "I want to build computers and fix them.  I want to work in an office and have a desk."  I couldn't wrap my head around this.  Joe was the outgoing guy, the funny guy, the sports guy.  Joe was a customer service guy, a salesman, a crowd pleaser.  He wanted to work with computers all day, at a desk, by himself?  I thought he was joking. 

And so I watched.  He began reading manuals about computers.  He asked his friend, a computer programmer, to help him.  He literally started tearing apart computers and putting them back together again just so he could see how they worked.  And then people started asking him to do the same thing with their computers!  And they paid him!  I can count things I am good at on one hand, and then there's Joe...self-taught computer programmer plus many others.

And then, almost three months ago, Joe called me again.  "Guess what?  he screamed.  "I'm applying for a job where I get to help people with broken technology put it back together again!  Wish me luck!"  And so I did.  That night, after work, Joe and I had dinner together.  "So how did the interview go?"  I asked.  He began telling me of the typical questions asked in interviews and then a long saga about how he had to put a computer together in ten minutes.  "It was awesome!"  He said.  And then he told me that they asked him where he saw himself in the future.  "I told them that in three months I wanted to be one of the suits running this joint," Joe laughed.  I sat there...shocked.  I didn't know if I was going to throw up or smack him!  "Tell me you're joking," I begged.  "Nope," Joe continued.  "And they gave me a job!"  I couldn't believe it.  He did it again.

For the past two months, Joe has loved his job.  He gets to fix customer's internet, phone, and satellite, and, his favorite: he gets to sit in an office with a view of the Salt Lake Valley.  Fast forward to Friday, May 10.  I get another phone call.  "You will never guess what?"  Joe questioned.  "Remember how I told them in ninety days I wanted to be one of the people running this place?  Well I am!  I am!  I got promoted!"  This time my stomach didn't hurt.  I wasn't worried, or irritated, or annoyed.  I was proud.  He advanced three levels and became the boss to his boss' boss.  The best thing about it: his ninety-day anniversary is this week.

I'm not sure if Joe is lucky or good or a little bit of both.  But I do know that I took a chance and got lucky myself this time.

The Power of Moms

My mom, the magician.

My mom has magic powers.  She can make the smallest success seem monumental, and the worst day feel so much better.  My mom never knows what she is going to get when I walk in her door.  I go to her with good news, bad news, sad news, and even no news.  She is always the first to know everything because I couldn't imagine not getting her advice, her cheerfulness, and her hugs to make it all better.  I have driven to her house late at night and early in the morning...my mom's door is always open not only to me, but to everyone.  Everyone can count on my mom, and we should all be so lucky that she is part of our lives. In short, my mom just "gets it." I can be having a really bad day and all I want to do is cry or yell, but I don't; I end up driving to my mom's house, and the minute I see her face, I burst into tears.  She has the magic touch to make everything in life seem better, and with her immediate hug and a taco or two, I forget all of my troubles until the next incident happens, and there she is again, picking up the pieces.

I think the best quality of my mom is her ability to listen.  I am very dramatic with some (most) of my stories, and she listens to all of my nonsense and is genuinely interested!  And let's get real.  I have come up with some crazy ideas, and she always says, "oh, that sounds nice," or, "that's a good idea, why don't you try it?"  Never, EVER has my mom said, "you can't do that."  My dreams have been her dreams, and because of her, many of them have come true. 

The countless things that my mom does for myself and others cannot even be measured, because quite frankly, she doesn't tell people about most of them.  One day she asked if we could go to Wal-Mart so she could buy school supplies for a class in need.  She's taught me that if you have to get recognition for the service you do, then you probably shouldn't be doing it in the first place.  She always puts everyone else before herself, but unlike some people who would naturally build up resentment, she gets happiness from seeing others happy and taken care of. 

About a year ago, my mom took herself to the doctor because she wasn't feeling well (she doesn't like to bother anyone).  She had incredibly high blood pressure and was almost hospitalized.  For the first time, my mom said to me, "I'm really scared."  She's often scared about my grandpa or the shenanigans I'm up to, but she was scared for herself this time.  She committed to a healthier lifestyle, and her reason was so she could be around for everyone else.  I don't think that many people wake up and say, "I'm never going to eat anything with lots of sodium again," but she did and she has maintained that lifestyle for a year now, never slipping up, even around the holidays.  She is inspirational for many things: her kindness, her selflessness, her dedication; I am just so glad that she is mine.

My mom is my best friend; and no, I don't think that's weird.  We spend time together usually at least twice a week, and we have done so for years now.  In every way possible, we try to rearrange our schedules so we can spend this time together, even if we don't end up doing anything but talking.  But we also go on many adventures together: craft shows, book stores, nurseries, and even sometimes we just eat tacos and take a nap!  My mom is always up for anything (as long as it doesn't require her driving on the freeway).  This wedding will be yet another adventure we get to take together.  I am so glad I get to share it with her.  She didn't have her mom when she got married, so it is even more special for us to celebrate this moment together.  She is my best mom and I am her favorite daughter.

My almost mother-in-law aka Supermom.

Have you ever heard the phrase about a man marrying someone exactly like their mother?  Joe got pretty dang close (even though he has just realized it).  Nancy and I are two peas in a pod.  We both teach the same subjects and the same grades.  We both had red hair when we were born, and we are both blonde now.  We both cry at parades and fireworks and whatever else strikes our fancy at the time.  We both laugh at corny jokes.  We both get riled up over the smallest things.  We both fully admit that Joe drives us crazy!

Nancy was the second to last person I met.  I met her at Joe's restaurant.  I was eating at one table; she was at the table next to mine.  Nearly an hour later, Joe came out and said, "by the way, this is my mom."  I almost peed my pants, and if I were to guess, she did too.  Great introduction, Joe.  Through conversation, I learned that she was a teacher and taught the same subject as me (another thing that Joe could have brought to my attention.  Keep in mind, we had dated two years at this point!).  From then on, she was always extremely nice to me and made me feel like I was part of the family. 

Nancy has four children: two boys, two girls.  Watching her at holidays or dinners, she has this ability to give them all the attention they need.  Similar to my mom, she puts everyone else's needs in front of her own.  I frequently say to her that the family would fall apart if it wasn't for her.  She is certainly the glue that holds everyone together (whether they like it or not).  Why I think Joe and Nikki are similar, they all need to be "handled" differently, if that makes sense.  Nancy can do this and do this flawlessly.  She even changes her posture and her tone of voice depending upon which child she is talking to.  Even though I will be her daughter-in-law, she makes me feel like I am one of her own, and never separates the fact that I am "marrying" in.  She also is fine with the fact that I am and always will be the favorite, and flatters me by telling me I am.  She is Supermom, and I am her favorite.

*****

This post would not be complete if I didn't properly thank my School Mom.  My School Mom, Debbi, has six children of her own, but at school, her kids allow her to be on loan to me.  Sometimes I just need a "mom" to talk to right then, to help me see something I may not have seen before, to calm me down, or just to listen to me.  Debbi is the best at this.  She has the kindest heart and genuinely loves her job, her students, and me.  I always love to go in and talk to her; she makes me feel at home.  We talk about the funniest things just as much as we talk about the serious things.  Debbi has given me the best advice through the years regarding school, Joe, and my wedding.  Work doesn't feel whole without her there, and just knowing she is down the hall gives me great comfort (even if that sounds weird).  My life is truly better with her in it, and I wish her and her family the best that life has to offer.

Debbi is my School Mom, but I also want to wish a fabulous Mother's Day to two other moms who give me great comfort at school, and I am so thankful that they have taken me under their wing and listen to my craziness.  Sherri C. and Sherri J. have the funniest personalities.  I enjoy their sarcasm and talking to them in person or ranting via email.  I feel like all of these wonderful ladies have raised me in the past eight years, and I hope I make them proud.

Happy Mother's Day!

Love,

Kristin

Confessions of an OCD Bride

Two weeks ago, I woke up early for a Saturday.  The first thought I had in my head was, “My dress!”  I immediately got dressed and drove to Layton just to inquire.  Yes, I could have phoned, but I needed to see for myself where my dress was, was it going to be here in time for my alterations, etc.  I went in the store wound up, to say the least.  After the sales lady actually let me get on her computer to track it for myself, I calmed down.  “Sorry,” I said.  “I just find one thing to obsess over, and I won’t stop until I figure it out.”  “It happens all of the time,” she smiled.  “Don’t worry.”

It happens all of the time.  So I am “normal,” right?  Maybe not so much.  You see, I would like to say that my compulsiveness all has to do with the wedding, but I’m usually always like this no matter what the circumstance.  Just ask my mom.  My mom has been through my episodes where I would go late to school if my bangs weren’t perfect, or I wouldn’t go to bed until I found white socks that matched each other perfectly.  I would also reorganize her living room decorations until everything was symmetrical.  Because that is certainly normal…right?

As I’ve gotten older, it unfortunately has gotten worse.  So bad even, that it starting impacting my sleep.  I couldn’t sleep because I was always, always thinking or…reorganizing.  I couldn’t turn it off no matter what I tried.   Joe took me to the doctor and the doctor explained that I have anxiety and also OCD.  I was hoping for something to just help me sleep, but it wasn’t that easy.

So naturally, I freaked out.  I saw those people on television.  Counting stairs, washing their hands compulsively, not leaving their house.  Was I that bad?  This is where I had to change my thinking.  Everyone has their “thing” even if it’s no”thing” at all.  My “thing” is organization and planning.  If it’s straight and symmetrical, I’m ok.  If not, I will think about it, and think about it, and think about it.  Some people have certain triggers: change in routine, sickness, high stress at work, but unfortunately, we haven’t been able to narrow mine down.  For example, why did I suddenly wake up thinking “my dress?”  

I was happy to learn (by happy I mean relieved) that most people have certain levels of both anxiety and OCD.  Who knew?  Again, some people can turn it off and some people have it dictate their whole lives.  I’d like to think I’m a fully functioning individual.  I just go through these processes that few people see that help me get through certain circumstances.  I can go weeks without a single episode, or I can have several things happen in a day.  And usually, it never happens at school.

Joe looked at this for the first several years as me just being dramatic (which I am, but not in this case) and teased me about it.  “What’s the big deal?”  He would say.  Big deal?  Big deal?  His reaction would just infuriate me.  It wasn’t until these past two years especially he could see it, and could see that I couldn’t turn it off as much as I would try.  Imagine getting a phone call of me crying saying that I’m in Salt Lake and I can’t drive because there are too many cars on the road.  Since then, Joe has gotten it.

Some of the drawbacks of this whole thing (besides the nonsense listed above) is the fact that I never know when it’s going to happen.  I could be fine one minute, and immediately have an “episode” the next.  I can’t say to a person, “I was fine a few seconds ago, but now my heart is pounding out of my chest and I feel like I’m going to faint or vomit or both…but great party!”  Yeah right.  But that is an extreme case and rarely occurs.  But on the positive side, I have gained a lot. I don’t know anyone who has a cleaner house than me (and I actually enjoy making it that way), I’m on a routine, I’m very dependable, and I always keep my word (even if I have to leave early because I freak out).   

Lucky for me, my OCD has never let me down when it comes to planning my wedding either. If I could plan other people’s weddings on the side I would gladly do it because I love the organization of it (and the control)! Currently, everything is already done for my wedding and my event is two months away!  I’m not saying that I’m an over-achiever, I’m saying that that is normal functioning for me, and anything else is unacceptable…for me.  And for that, I thank OCD.  I have kept records for my vendors and have also memorized account numbers. I know everyone who is coming and have one list with me in my purse at all times (naturally, I have three copies).  This may not be your normal but this most certainly is mine…my confessions of an OCD Bride.

A Girl Named Honey Glaze

Me and Nikki in Disneyland.
 

Nikki, my soon-to-be sister-in-law, got engaged this week.  When she left to work for Disney World in January, everyone was sad.  In the car ride home, I told Joe, “I’m not sad that Nikki is leaving, I am sad that she will never come back.”  Joe said I was crazy for saying something so ridiculous, but I just had this feeling, and I was right.  Nikki and her fiancé, Anthony, are going to live in Florida.  I hope they will have a second bedroom for me with possibly a shrine to Baby Ariel or Kittykins.

Nikki was the last person of Joe’s family that I met.  I actually didn’t meet her until we had been dating for two years!  Joe and Nikki have had a so-called  “strained” relationship, but when I would ask Joe for specifics, he couldn’t give them to me.  When I first met her, I was attracted to her fun personality and how she is always so excited about everything.  She also doesn’t give a hoot what people think which is such an awesome and rare trait to have.  I instantly loved Nikki.

Over time, Nikki and I spent more and more time together, and the more time I spent with Nikki, Joe also spent with Nikki.  Sometimes I would have to work on school work, so Joe and Nikki would just hang out, go to lunch, or go to the movies.   Both of them starting coming around about their feelings for each other.

As for Nikki and I, we can laugh and laugh hard at the most ridiculous things.  Nearly every time we are together, I start laughing so hard I cry.  She just gets this look and I completely lose it.  We have these silly little jokes like “magnum” and “sister wives” that no one gets but us and it’s the best!  Sometimes, Joe and Nikki’s mom, Nancy, has to separate the both of us.  We feed off of each other’s ridiculousness.

Last summer, Nikki was my nurse during my toe incident and would sleep over.  We’ve endured the twelve hour Gone with the Wind saga, and survived a murderer/rapist in a grungy hotel in Disneyland.   She was the first person (aside from the mom’s) that we called when we got engaged, and I was the first person she called.  If I could only share my engagement period with one person, I would choose Nikki, and that has come true.

When Nikki left for Disney World, Joe started bringing her up more and more and calling her more than he has ever called anyone.  What she enjoys to talk about on the phone and what he enjoys to talk about on the phone are so opposite, but it works for them.  One time I heard Joe say, “don’t talk to me about this guy, I’m trying to tell you about my car!” As strange as that sounds, that is just Joe and Nikki.

At dinner one night, I finally burst out, “The reason why I love Nikki so much is because she is exactly like you!”  Joe just sat there perplexed.  They are both very funny, incredibly social, and have more friends than I will ever have in my lifetime.  They both are very passionate and will fight until the end for something that they wholeheartedly believe in.  The only difference I see is that where Joe is more logical, Nikki is more emotional.  Other than that, they are two peas in a pod and probably haven’t realized it until this post.

When I told Joe to call her last night so she could tell him she had just gotten engaged, Joe said, “no matter what, she deserves only the best and all of the happiness in the world.  After all, she is my little sister.”  So congrats to you, Honey Glaze.  Love your Snicklefritz and Big Brother.

 

This Dress is a Mess

When Kate Middleton stepped out of her fancy white car the day she married Prince William, many of us watched just to see what she was wearing, and to our delight, she looked stunning.  Then, as Pippa carried Kate’s train in the church, I thought her dress was beautiful as well.  I knew that when the time came for me, these two women would be my inspiration for both my ring and my dress.

Stunning.

Getting married in one of the hottest places in the United States during one of the hottest months of the year posed a problem, however.  Kate’s dress was long sleeved.  I needed her dress but with short sleeves.  So, as strange and silly as this may be, I Googled “Kate Middleton’s dress short sleeves.”  That search generated dozens of hits.  I finally found the one that I wanted.  I didn’t care if it was half across the world (my flowers already were), I was going to get that dress.  As luck may have it, it was at David’s Bridal in Layton.  I have heard many horror stories about David’s Bridal, but I didn’t care.  They had my dress, and that was that.  I called and made an appointment three days before Christmas.

I walked in with the picture, style number, and my credit card.  I told my mom the goal was two hours or less.  I knew what I wanted, and I had no desire to try on every dress in the store and make a spectacle of it.  I don’t think she or the sales lady believed me, but I was walking out with that dress that for many months was just a picture I carried around.

After I gave her the picture of “my dress,” the lady asked if I would like to try on others that were similar.  I agreed.  Why not?  I had two hours to kill.  I amused everyone by trying on three other dresses.  “Not it,” I stated.  “This isn’t it either.”  I waited for mine until last.  As soon as I put my dress on, both my mom and the sales lady agreed that this was the one.  “You may be the easiest bride I’ve ever worked with,” she said.  I should have told her to call the caterer because he would have a completely different opinion.

So, after an hour and a half, I had my dress, and I was eating tacos.  Many brides on the shows that I watch like “Say Yes to the Dress,” “I Found the Gown,” “Brides of Beverly Hills,” and “Something Borrowed,” make a day of the whole thing.  They drink champagne and have everyone and their brother attend the fitting.  Not me.  Dress.  Tacos.  Nap.  Done.

I think that I mastered a normally stressful event by watching my crazy shows, that Joe cleverly calls “This Dress is a Mess.”  Who knew that my obsessive, reality television would actually be educational?  Listed below are tips that I learned:

• Find a style that best fits your body type.  This is similar to jeans.  Sometimes a dress you like won’t look great on your body.
• It’s all about the undergarments.  Who knew?  Depending on the slip that you pick, your dress shape can be transformed.
• Stay within your budget.  Don’t even ask for dresses that are more money because you will just leave heartbroken.  Also take into consideration alterations and accessories.  Are they part of your dress budget or separate?
• Go to the store with a plan.  Bridal stylists are there to help you, not look into a crystal ball.
• Remember your timeframe.  Last minute weddings = sample dresses off the rack.  If that is appalling to you,  like it was to me, set your wedding day 9-12 months away.  I bought my dress in December for instance, and my first fitting isn’t until April 30.  I won’t have it completely sized until June.

• The most interesting piece of advice: You only need to try on four dresses to know what you want.  Several people try on tons and tons, but generally speaking they go back to one of the first four or one with a similar style from this first group.  If you don’t believe this advice, think about me.  It was the fourth dress I tried on.

So there you have it.  If you want to be a Bridezilla, pick something else to freak out over.  The dress shouldn’t be a hot mess.

P.S. HAPPY 2ND ANNIVERSARY WILLIAM AND KATE :D

A Toe, a Dishwasher, and My Proposal

It was the morning of July 7, 2012.  I was half-way through summer break, but time seemed to be going by faster.  In the previous six weeks, so much excitement occurred. I had put in an offer on my very first home.  It was accepted, then rejected three days later.  I was heartbroken until I found an even better house, put in an offer, it was accepted, and for good this time!  Prior to buying a house, I have been put in stressful situations like we all are.  I thought graduate school was the worst it could get, but as they say in Vegas, the house always wins.  I have vowed never to buy a house again and I want to be buried in my back yard.  Nine months later, rationalism has still not set in.  I'm not moving...ever. 

Besides the home buying stress, the day I signed the papers for Dream Home #2, June 27th, I was in such a rush to give the papers to my realtor, Amanda, I opened her office door, and my foot went under it.   When I slowly pulled it out, my foot was intact minus one big piece: the top half of my big toe and its nail.    I tried to act like it was no big deal; I had papers to give to Amanda.  When Joe pulled up to meet me at Amanda's office, He.  Flipped.  Out!  Joe picked up the remaining pieces of my toe (totally disgusting), put them in his pocket (even more disgusting), and took me to InstaCare, in which I was told to stop bleeding on the carpet!  I was doomed to spend the next two weeks, including my birthday, in severe pain, neon bandages, and an embarrassing story. 

My horrible toe.

"The Toe Incident" couldn't keep me away from plans I had to quickly make about ending my lease in the town home, and moving to my dream home. The house was perfect to me, but there were some issues that needed to be resolved, toe, or lack thereof.  My house had a beautiful kitchen: stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, white cabinets.  It did not, however, have a dishwasher.  Joe thought that was a travesty.  "You mean to tell me you are going to wash your dishes by hand?"  He laughed.  If the only other solution was to tear up a new kitchen that I loved, and delay moving again, then of course I would wash the dishes by hand.  Joe didn't believe me.

Between the home stress, moving, my toe, and my unwillingness to even talk about let alone consider Joe's ideal plans for my dream home, we stopped talking for several days.  It did occur to me that this may be the end of us.  His mom and sister even took me out to lunch in which I told them I didn't know the fate of our relationship.  We had already been through so much together, I thought our relationship was solid.  But I didn't know if we would/could survive the home-buying situation.  It wasn't until one of my finance people kept giving me the run around, and I, on constant pain medication, simply couldn't fight back.  Joe took the initative, amidst our "silencing" and called the men to get everything in order once again.  "No one's going to mess with you, especially when you're like this,"  he looked down at my huge, hot pink bandage, and my sobs turned to laughter.  We were ok, for good this time.

On July 7, ten days after my toe incident, I was still on pain medication, but able to drive if I spaced out my doses.  It was a Saturday, and my cousin Spencer's fiance, Ashley, was having her bridal shower.  I went, feeling like garbage, but grateful to be out on my own. When I returned to my car, I had several missed calls from Joe.  "Good news," he said on the phone on my way to Bountiful, "Amanda has found a kitchen exactly like yours with a dishwasher.  I booked us an appointment to go look at it."  I agreed to this appointment, to simply not start an argument that left us not speaking several days prior, but there was no way, no way I was putting in a dishwasher at this time.  Like, get over it already.

When I got to my town house, Joe was outside pacing, looking rather nicer than usual.  Was that hairspray in his hair? I wondered.  Man, this pain medicine was incredible.  "We have to go right now," he urged and started escorting me back to the car. "But I have to wrap my toe," I argued.  "Joe, I don't feel well.  Please, just you go."  "Come on," Joe smiled.  "It's just up the street, you'll be fine."  The next thing I know, I'm in the passenger seat and he is going up the hill.  "Where is this house?  Where is Amanda?  I thought you said it was just up the street?"  My questions kept spewing and Joe kept driving.  Then Amanda called.  "I'm running a little late," she said.  "Just meet me at the park, it's right by the house," she giggled.  "Why don't we just meet you at the house?" I responded back.  "What is the address?" "The park will be easier," Amanda said, and she quickly hung up the phone.       
  
"This is really bothering me,"  I said to Joe as he is parking in a park I have never been to. "If you think about it, this makes no sense.  We are going to some random person's house to look at a dishwasher I'm not even interested in.  I don't want any part of this." 

Joe seemed not to hear a word I was saying.  He got out of the driver's seat and came around and opened my door.  "I need to check your toe.  Get out of the car, please," Joe said.  "Absolutely not," I snapped back.  "I'm tired, I'm sick, it's hot, Amanda will be here any minute."  I closed the door and watched Joe walk around. 

He tried again.  "Please, please get out of the car," Joe begged.  "Leave me alone!"  I snapped the car door shut again and pouted. 

And then the third time.  "It's very important to me if you get out of the car," Joe pleaded.  I finally relented and hobbled over to the very edge of the seemingly wet, grassy lawn.

"What are all these baseballs scattered around here for?  Stupid kids," I chuckled.  I kept looking around for any sign of Amanda's car.  Joe began examing my toe, saying something nice, and I chuckled.  "Will you help me up?" I asked.  "Amanda is going to be here any minute."  I then noticed Joe start sweating.  He continued with his speech.  I interrupted again.  "Just tell me all of this later.  I want to go back to the car."  But he didn't hear me.  He just continued talking and talking.  "What are you doing?" he finally asked, midway through his speech.  "What?" I questioned.  I was in a daze.  "Where is Amanda?"  I questioned back. "Can you call her or go get my phone and I'll call her?"  But oh no, Joe just continued talking and talking.  Why wasn't he listening to me?  I suddenly became attentive when Joe said he had a gift for me.  I smiled, and he pulled out a rose. Before he handed it to me, he said just one sentence, "With all of that being said, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"  And there it was.  My perfect ring. 

My ring.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"  I immediately responded.  "Amanda is going to be here!"  There was a long pause.

"The baseballs, the park, the rose, the ring.  This was all planned for you.  No Amanda."  Joe responded.

I sat there dazed and confused.  All of the signs were there and I Just. Didn't. Get. It.  I won't get the do-over...I missed my own proposal!  Joe began telling me of his plan, and that it was his grandmother, Ruth's birthday, and no matter how mad he was at me earlier this week, it was planned and has been planned for a while.  "Amanda was just a bonus," he responded.  I was completely caught off guard and still regretting that I missed every word he said.  He called my mom, his mom, and finally, Amanda.  I just sat there dazed.  I'm such an idiot.  I missed my own proposal.  I didn't listen to anything he said.

I was pretty quiet the whole way back to my townhouse.  "What's bothering you, bean?" He said with a bright smile.  "I missed the whole thing," I began crying.  "I'll never get a do-over.  I didn't listen to anything you said, and I feel horrible."  Joe pulled over and grabbed a white piece of paper out of his pocket.  "I know you even better than you know yourself," he responded.  And then he handed me his folded-up speech, down to every last word including "Check Kristin's toe to get her out of the car."  I finally had my perfect proposal. 

I keep that paper next to my bed and refer to it often.  All of the signs were there, I was just too preoccupied (and possibly under too much pain medicine) to figure it out.  I do wish I would have been more conherant, to say the least, however, I have something that few couples have: a transcript to their proposal.  I cherish that piece of paper, and the funny thing is, it's written on the back of an old grocery list I made.  That is so completely me, I laugh every time.

As for my toe?  Three months before we say "I do," on his grandmother Ruth's birthday, exactly 365 days after my proposal, it has almost grown back.  Just to be on the safe side though, I am wearing closed-toe shoes with my dress.  And then there is the question of the silly dishwasher.  Have I installed one yet?  Nope, and I have no plans of it either.  I'm very predictable and stubborn, even down to my own wedding proposal.

My kitchen, hold the dishwasher.