Looking Back on 2012

So, it is the last day of 2012, and following my annual tradition, I have a cold. Honestly, it's a tradition I would gladly do away with, but maybe it's the Universe's way of telling me to slow the heck down and take time to reflect on the past year.

2012 started with a tree falling on our house. No joke. It wasn't a big tree, and it really didn't do any real damage, but it certainly got our attention, and the rest of the year kept us on our toes until right about now. That dinky little tree must have been some sort of sign that 2012 was going to be testing us on quite a bit more than the strength of our roof.

Oh, and test us it did. In 2012, I found myself in the midst of attending graduate school, student teaching, quitting my job, and planning a wedding. To give you a small tidbit of what my mind was like during those months, there was a moment when I was looking frantically for my keys, and kept searching throughout the entire house, maniacally looking at the clock and freaking out about how late I was to some class. I kept yelling at everything, as if it was Newton's, Ampersand's, or Evan's fault that my keys had gone missing. As I was ranting, waving my hands around angrily and cursing my house for being a black hole that swallows keys, I realized that they were actually in my hand, and had probably been there for a while. Yep, that's how intact my mental faculties were for the majority of 2012. It's a miracle I didn't try to make floral arrangements with my 7th graders and teach Roman history to my bridal party.

2012 was tough on us in other ways, too. On September 3rd, one of my oldest and dearest friends passed away. His loss absolutely broke my heart, along with many others', and I honestly feel like the world has lost some of its light since his passing. It has been impossible to understand, but I find comfort in remembering him for the amazing person he was, and the impact he had on so many lives.

In remembering the harder moments of this past year, I can't help but feel so incredibly lucky to have such amazing family and friends that helped me through it all. I'm more than fairly certain I would have never made it to today in nearly as good of shape (they always downplayed how deep and dark my crazy deep/dark my under-eye circles were) without all of their support and love.

Even though there were difficult times this year, there were some amazing moments, too. For example (and I'm pretty sure you can all guess what I'm going to say) July 27th, 2012, was a phenomenal day. I honestly feel like I floated down the aisle (a miracle, considering I was wearing three-inch heels and walking on uneven grass) because I was totally lifted by the hope, love, and support all around us. On that day, I married my best friend, and we began a crazy, life-long adventure, which has already featured parasailing in Hawaii, hosting Thanksgiving without giving anyone food poisoning, cutting our very first married Christmas Tree (and consequently killing it because we forgot to make to cut the stump again, therefore it wouldn't absorb any water), nearly going bankrupt over a feline, surviving No Shave November with minimal razor burn, and learning the Canadian sport of Curling (a post for another day, trust me).  Also, I got over my crippling fear of cooking, and embarked on making some edible meals (others, not so much. I'm working on it)  more complicated than grilled cheese or Ramen noodles.

My Dayquil is wearing off, and so therefore, is my endurance for typing on my very old, crotchety laptop. I wish I had the strength to write about every amazing moment of 2012, because really, there were a lot. I wish I could go into so much more detail about Grey's Nights, Sushi Dates, and Baking Adventures. But all I will say is that they are all moments that I will carry with me through the end of 2012, into 2013, and for many, many years afterward.

And so I say goodbye to 2012, with a kiss and a slightly hacking cough, and say hello to 2013 with a smile and so much hope for all the memories to be made there.

Marriage Role Model Dream Team

You know, Evan and I are incredibly lucky in a lot of ways. For example, we both have jobs, we have health insurance, we don't have terribly bad morning breath, etc. But more and more, I'm starting to realize how lucky we are to have such incredible sets of parents who model to us, on a daily basis, what a good, healthy, and loving marriage looks like.

I mean, my parents just celebrated their 29th wedding anniversary on Sunday, and I still catch them staring dreamily into each other's eyes. And they flirt with each other. The still-fourteen year-old in me cringes to see that, but the newbie married part of me is just damn impressed. I love how much they love each other.

And Evan's parents are about to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary, and they're at a point where they can more or less communicate wordlessly and without having to be in the same room. No, really. My father-in-law will suddenly look up from his paper, a question on his face, and before he even utters a word, my mother-in-law will say, "Yes, we do," and both then continue what they were doing previously as I sit gaping and astounded.

Both relationships are amazing, and totally inspiring to me, who regularly feels like I'm a total marriage poser just playing at this whole "adulthood," thing. This married dynamic definitely takes some getting used to, and when it's not as buttery smooth as I'd like it to be, I just look to my parent's and in-laws' and see what Evan and I could be like someday. They constantly show us how far a little work and a lot of love (oy, how cheesy can I get today?) can take a relationship, and it is such a motivator. Especially because we're still trying to get a decent laundry schedule down ("But I thought you were going to fold the clothes?" "Wait, is this basket clean stuff or dirty stuff?" "Not sure, should we just wash everything?" are common phrases thrown about the Tyler household) and our parents all run along like a well-oiled machine. At least, they make it seem like one; they always seem to have clean laundry. Along with their mastery of laundry coordination, they also raised us. There are days when I'm so overwhelmed in folding socks, chasing crazy cats, and burning dinner that even the tiniest thought of adding children to the mix makes me feel faint. And here our parents pulled it off, no problem. Amazing, I tell you.

My parents on their wedding day. Check out all the love in this picture! And check out all the tiers on their cake! 

The Marriage Role Model Dream Team. Plus Allen and Molly.

I honestly get all twitterpated when I think of Evan and I's relationship, and where it will be in 29, 36, or 50 years, especially when I know we'll be following in such amazing footsteps. 

Here's to you, Mama and Papo, Marybeth and Warren. Happy Anniversaries to the best Marriage Role Model Dream Team we could have ever asked for. We are so very lucky, and we love you all so much!

Christmas Tree Hunting

Between my bouts of work, grad school, and life, I shall be moonlighting as a blogger here. My wife's writing tends to put mine to shame, but I shall do my best.

The Christmas season is upon us, and that means it is open season on all evergreen trees between five and nine feet tall. Just over a week ago we bundled ourselves up, obtained some coffee, met up with my lovely in-laws, and headed out to secure ourselves a beautiful tree.

 We were taking old-timey pictures - German and Ana's came out way better than my attempt.

I don't look old-timey at all, I just look like I dropped my ice cream cone.

We made for Ryzn Creek Farm, located just a few scenic miles north of North Plains. After a great tip from our good friend, Travis, three years ago, we have visited Ryzn Creek Farm for all our indoor arboreal needs.  After an arduous hunt (ten minutes), we made our selection.

So many trees to choose from!

I set to work violently hacking the poor thing down, smiling maniacally as I worked.

Next year I am bringing a plastic bag to kneel on.

No sooner was the tree on the ground, when three Girl Scouts appeared, offering to help us carry our prize back to the parking lot. I thought we had hit the jackpot this year, when the leader of the pack quipped, "Who's carrying the front?" I obediently grabbed the front of the tree and we began our march. Her only words of encouragement were, "Tell me if there any stumps!" German and Ana were saved from the bossy Girl Scouts, as they opted for the tree closest to the parking lot. The owner even offered to cut it down for them with his chainsaw.

Back at the in-law's house, we were treated to a delicious dinner of tamales, beans, and salsa. After dinner, we completed another annual tradition, the viewing of Love Actually.

The next day we were able to bring the tree inside and hang our decorations on it, thus providing our cats with two feline holiday treats: tree-flavored water and a large number of forbidden, shiny, and dangling objects to play with. Newton provided supervision the entire time, and kept trying to lend a paw in hanging the ornaments. Ampersand was nowhere to be seen during this process, as she was sure that the tree was sure to be her doom. Nonetheless, she was hiding under the tree and partaking of Grand Fir Pale Ale later that evening.

"You're doing it wrong," his look seemed to say.

All done!

Newest ornament addition this year - "Mr. & Mrs."

With our tree now decorated, the Christmas season is here in full force. Eight days and counting!

Evan out.

No Shave November: The Grand Whisker Finale!

So here we are! The fourth week and the grand whisker finale we've all been waiting for! I have to say that I am pretty impressed with my husband's hair follicles. They really rose (er, grew) to the occasion during the third week, and went full-on beard length during the fourth. I mean, he actually got food stuck in it once.

What my darling husband failed to mention was that at the end of the month, every teacher at his school (that grew a beard. Well, an intentional one. Apparently there's a fuzzy lady that works there, too) was required to shave the beard into some sort of crazy facial hairdo. Evan decided on a Fu Manchu and consequently looked like a time traveler that had been plucked straight off of Haight Ashbury in the 1970's. Of course, I had to take pictures (someday, our kids are going to be so proud), and here they are:

Look! A beard! 

Side view. Patchy never got it together, unfortunately. 

Here's the other side, with another lazy, good for nothin' bald patch. 

I obviously cannot hide my glee that the beard is going bye-bye! 

The shaving begins! 

The Fu Manchu is taking shape. Whoo. 

And there it is. My husband, with a Fu Manchu. The only problem was the his top lip was kind of sparse. I offered to color it in for him with an eyebrow pencil, but I was declined. 

Side view of the Fu Manchu. He went out in public like this. Seriously. 

I am smiling, but I'm secretly terrified that I am now married to a Wyatt Earp lookalike. 

Just to be clear, the Fu Manchu only lasted a day. I'm heartbroken that it had to go. Not. 

Thanks for tuning into this exciting, hairy (puns, gotta love them!) journey we've been on for the last four weeks. Here's hoping Patchy I and Patchy II get their priorities straight for next November! I have my eye on you, Patchies! 

The Tylers Host Thanksgiving!

Two years ago today, Evan proposed to me on a beach on the Oregon coast. It was an amazing day. I decided to celebrate the occasion by writing a blog about how we, the fledgling Tyler family, totally conquered Thanksgiving. 

Not too long ago, we were sitting in my in-law's living room, opening all the amazing generous gifts from all of our friends and family. As we excitedly opened a box of brand spankin' new plates, serving dishes, and cooking stuff, I heard myself say, "Well, I think we will be hosting Thanksgiving this year, so we can use all of this!"

Somewhere, in the far reaches of my mind, a small voice said, "Are you out of your mind?" But I didn't listen. 

So imagine my surprise when, on the Sunday before 12 people are due at our house to eat the biggest meal of the year, I realize the potentially catastrophic mistake I made over a pile of wrapping paper and Crate and Barrel boxes. We were hosting Thanksgiving, and we didn't even have a turkey! 

We raced to Fred Meyer and spent a small fortune on everything we would need, and ended up getting our 18 pound bird for free. Kind of. It depends on how you look at it. Either we spent $120 dollars on groceries, and got a free turkey, or we bought a $120 dollar turkey. It's all about perspective, I guess. 

Anyway, I also realized upon arriving home that we had absolutely zero decorations, and I wanted our house to look homey, cozy, and Thanksgiving-y. And so commenced the scouring of Pinterest. I made an entire board, and on it went every idea that seemed even remotely feasible for my craft-challenged self. I settled on using Mason jars that we had used at my bridal shower, some corn kernels I found in our pantry, a little bit of raffia, and some tea light candles I found in a random closet. I threw it all together, and I was honestly a little bit amazed they didn't look totally heinous. Evan and I also did an emergency gathering mission to Michaels and Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and scored an appropriately kitschy turkey decoration, and some autumn-colored napkins on clearance. Oh, and bought squash. I've always seen squash in Thanksgiving ads, so we had squash, too. 

And now onto the big day. I swear, I was more nervous on November 22, 2012 than I had been on my wedding day. Probably because I knew that my wedding day would more than likely end on a good note, while Thanksgiving could end with food poisoning. I spent the entire afternoon vacuuming, dusting, and setting out the squash in appealing formations, while Evan manned the kitchen. We had actually found some recipes on Pinterest (I LOVE Pinterest. It makes me feel craft/cooking capable, which is quite the feat!) that we wanted to try, such as a sparkling cranberry punch, crock pot mashed potatoes, and jalepeno crescent roll poppers. We had initially planned on trying both of these out beforehand, but subbing, graduate school, and a severe case of naivete got in the way. 

In all honesty, I was freaking out right until every one came over. Seeing my family (original and new acquisitions) gathered together, laughing, catching up and drinking the cranberry punch without wincing made everything else seem kind of petty. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have minded too much if we had had to order pizza. But, as it turns out, everything turned out totally, totally awesome. I had a wonderful time, and I'm pretty sure everyone else did, too (that could be because we may have forgotten to mention there was wine in the punch, but hey, whatever helps). And, I think I'm still full. There was so much food, it was unbelievable. Oh, and it has to be said that I, Mariela Tyler, made jalepeno crescent roll poppers successfully. Seriously. I owned those poppers. 

Now, onto pictures from the big day! 

Our foyer, with our last minute decorations!

Kitchen going full-force. Note my jalepeno poppers on the counter, next to  phone, in case I set the whole place ablaze and needed to call 911. 

Our table, all prettied up! 

My most crafty moment! I think they looked cute! 

The appetizer table! Seriously, these are just the appetizers! Tamales, pepper poppers, deviled eggs, veggies, and crackers and cheese. 

My squash! 

We actually lit a fire in our fireplace! It was totally worth the entire house smelling like a campsite for the next few days! 

Sparkling Cranberry Punch! So good! Thank you, Pinterest! 

My adorable husband, mashing away. 

Norman Rockwell, eat your heart out. 

The dessert table. So. Good. 

I also made turkey cupcakes for the occasion. I think the one in the middle looks especially terrified to be eaten.

There you have it! We survived hosting Thanksgiving. In fact, I'd say we pretty much conquered it. I actually didn't get a shot of all the finished food, because it was pretty much hoovered as soon as it hit the table. But it was good, I promise. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving, full of love, laughter, and of course, squash. Ours was full of all three, and we are actually considering doing it all over again next year! 

No Shave November: Week 3 Whiskers!

I have to say, Evan's facial hair has us all surprised this year. Minus the damn bald patch, his other hair follicles have put on the afterburners in this third week, and what Evan is now sporting could very well be called a beard.

See? 

Side view, with the stubborn bald patch. C'mon, Patchie, you have a week to redeem yourself!

One more week to go! Stay tuned for the grand Whisker finale!

Adventures in Baking!

The other day, it was gray, gross, and raining outside, and I was at home by myself. There was nothing decent left on my Netflix Instant Queue, and so I meandered into the kitchen, hoping to find something, anything, to munch on.

That's when my eye caught on our brand-new, shiny KitchenAid mixer. We got this thing of beauty for our wedding, and I've been dying to drive it all by myself since. The main reason I haven't (and shouldn't) is because I can't cook anything. Well, that's not totally true. I can make a mean grilled-cheese, and on a good day, I can pull out all the stops and whip up some mac n' cheese from the box. But overall, the jury has declared that I am inept in the kitchen, and shouldn't be trusted with actual cooking machinery, such as the mixer.

But, desperate, sans Netflix queue times call for desperate measures, and I set out to make peanut-butter cookies with peanut-butter M&M's. After some intense Pinterest searching for what looked like a relatively fail-proof recipe, I began my quest.

And I failed. Miserably. My cookies (and here, I'm using the term very loosely) came out looking like Frisbees with peanut-butter tumors sticking out of them. I also left them in the oven for a tad too long, and so  biting into one was like trying to eat a sidewalk, and they didn't taste much better, either. Evan gainfully tried one when he got home, almost lost a tooth, and said, "they have a good flavor..."

I lamented this complete failure to my friend, and while she was sympathetic, she wasn't exactly surprised. She's known me for ages, and just a few weeks prior, we had attempted to make muffins, which came out looking greasy (odd, for a recipe with no butter in it) and tasting like foam.

I was convinced that the Heavens had seen fit that I would never bake a decent thing in my life, when my friend decided to try to help me regain some sort of baking dignity by inviting me over to make cookies. I was hesitant, to say the least. With my luck, I'd end up burning the house down because the butter wasn't exactly at room temperature when we mixed it in.

And so, we got started. We had decided to make chocolate cookies with peanut butter M&M's. When I arrived, my friend looked at me, solemnly placed a can of Crisco on the counter and said, "this is the secret to really amazing cookies. Trust me." Even though my arteries were screaming that I was making the biggest mistake of my life, I decided to trust my friend and go ahead with the plan.

Our main ingredients. Paula Deen would be proud. 

Because of my previous failures in the kitchen, I was more or less relegated to reading the recipe and measuring out flour, cocoa, and other things, and I was totally okay with that. 

More than happy to observe this amazing process. 

I had never really realized that baking was quite literally, a science. I had always thought you could cram all the ingredients into a mixer, ignoring cooking commandments like, "at room temperature," "softened," and especially, "fold into the dough." For whatever reason, I thought all of these terms were interchangeable "throw it all together, put it in the oven, and you'll get perfect cookies!" No wonder my baked goods were monstrosities. Notice I said were, because I'm a decently quick learner, and my baking has since improved. As in, things that I put into the oven are generally considered edible. 

Dough filled with chocolate and calories, ready to go into the oven!

I wish I could say that I had a picture of the final product, but I don't, because they were very quickly devoured, with no fear of losing teeth or breaking jaws. I'd call this mission a success!

No Shave November: Week Two!

So, we are officially in the second week of Evan's big challenge of growing facial hair. He's pretty proud of the results thus far. Here is quick pictorial update. Oh, and I'm sorry for the absolutely terrible picture quality. It's for two reasons, really.
1: I'm short, so my poor, nearly 6 foot tall husband has to deal with relatively unflattering photographic angles because I don't feel like getting 5-inch heels to take a picture of him.

2: Our house was built in the 70's, when people didn't believe in overhead lighting being installed in their homes. Being November, it now gets dark roughly right after breakfast, and our house takes on a Batcave-like ambiance. Great for candle-lit dinners, terrible for picture-taking.

Front view. Note the tolerant smile. "Think of the blog!" I said. 

Side view, just so you all can see the bald patch I was talking about earlier. I think it's cute. At this point, his patience was wearing thin, as I accosted the poor man with a camera as soon as he came home from work.

Not to be outdone, Newton also is sporting a bald patch from his adventure last week.  I feel like he's saying, "I don't always get bald patches, but when I do, they cost $800 dollars."

Ta da! I'm so proud of Evan's little hair follicles for working so hard. Well, except for the ones on the bald spot; those ones are slackers. Stay tuned for next week's update! 

Newton: The World's Most Expensive "Free" Cat

Newton is our cat. Despite his unique brand of insanity, he has wriggled his way into our hearts and we do really love him. Really.

We met Newton in the summer of 2009, because we had agreed to cat-sit him for a week. We should have seen a slightly red-tinged flag when his owner called and said, "Hey, I can't wait to see him, but if you guys want to keep him, that's okay too." And so started the three most interesting, wallet-draining years of my pet-owning life.

Little orange-furred ball of terror. He was so cute, and we had no idea. 

First year we had him, he decided in his infinite feline wisdom, that the entire house was his own personal urinal, and we ended up having to replace the entire floor, baseboard, and the drywall (seriously) of an entire room. That wasn't cheap.

Second year we had him, we decided to get another kitten, Ampersand, thinking that some company might calm him down. Instead, he went full-on insane with jealousy, and instead of calming down, we had to take him to the vet and get him started on kitty Paxil for anxiety, which come to find out, had caused his urinary rebellion the year before. Again, tuna-flavored anti-separation anxiety medication for cats is not exactly a frugal expense.

This picture pretty much sums up their relationship.

This is our third year with him, and while he's calmed down a lot (thank you, Paxil!) he has decided that he wanted to tackle the great outdoors. Probably to get away from Ampersand, who for some reason adores him as much as he abhors her. Since he's started his outdoor explorations, he has gotten two upper respiratory infections (which he lovingly passed onto Ampersand) and has spent a whole night outside, leading us to imagine all sorts of awful outcomes, only to have him show up at our door early the next morning, yowling for his breakfast.

His latest mission to actually prove his worth to us started when he got a fever of 104.9 and had a white blood cell count of 41,000. Oh, and to add worry to anxiety, he started throwing up every hour. Off to the vet we went. A tad over $800 dollars later, and all we know is that he has an infection somewhere. This is some seriously expensive bacteria we're talking about here.

While it makes us cringe to think about spending the equivalent of two brand-new car payments worth on a 10 pound cat who once thought my favorite sweater was a pee-pee pad, we honestly can't imagine our lives without him. He's the cat that knows when you're not feeling well and will gladly spend all day on your lap, watching your favorite girly movies, purring away. He's the cat to greet you at the door, making you feel like some sort of celebrity every day, and he's the kind of cat who will look at us with such love and trust that it absolutely melts our hearts. He's totally worth it. I know it may sound silly, but he's family.

Update: Newton is now at home and is on the mend! We now have the super awesome task of throwing pills down his throat twice a day, followed with a chaser of a syringe full of "palatable" medication (palatable my foot. Newton tries to cover up tuna and chicken like it's poo). Ampersand is over the moon about him being back, and a major sign that he is feeling better is that he hissed at her the moment he saw her. Oh, and we got a call from the vet saying that he'll probably need a thorough teeth cleaning and might need to have a few teeth extracted. At the end of the conversation, she mentioned that it would probably be about oh, $400 dollars to do that. Newton, the world's most expensive free cat, strikes again. But, he's worth it.

"Yeah, this face? It's going to cost you."

Evan Takes On No Shave November!

Evan loves personal challenges. Earlier this year, he took on Hood to Coast, the Warrior Dash, and went skydiving. Oh, and he married me.

He says that he does these crazy, tiring things because he likes the personal challenge; he likes to go up against himself and his limits, and win. Personally, I think he does these things to worry me, but his reasoning is more poetic, I suppose.

With that said, Evan has decided to take on a huge new personal challenge: No Shave November. The school where he teaches is having all the male teachers do it to raise money for cancer research. It's really a great cause, but Evan's challenge comes in the fact that he does not really grow facial hair easily. At 27, he still has two baldish, baby-soft spots on his face that don't grow facial hair at all. In all honesty, as a Mexican woman, I feel that I have an easier time growing a mustache.

Evan's first foray into growing facial hair came when he was about to start student teaching at a local high school. He realized, with a start, that he was only five years older than the students he would be teaching, so he set out to grow a goatee to look older. It took him a full two weeks to really get something going, and once it was in, it became a permanent fixture.

Here is my adorable husband, with the adored goatee! Please ignore my ridiculous hat/sunglasses combo. 

And now, after four years with the goatee that I have come to love, and that Evan's hair follicles worked so hard to produce, he has shaven everything and is ambitiously hoping to have a "beard' by the end of this month.

I, of course, have taken it upon myself to chronicle the whole thing. Here is the picture from week one, taken three days after he had shaved everything:

I have friends and relatives that have this much stubble after one night. Let's go, facial hair! 

Stay tuned! More pictures to come! Here's hoping my husband looks like a lumberjack in 25 days! 

3 Months!

We have officially been married for three months! Three months ago today at this time, Evan and I were doing our "first look" photos at the World Forestry Center. It was an awesome moment, especially because I had managed to keep my dress a secret for 18 months, so it was Ev's first time seeing it.

I think he liked it! 

It really was a wonderful, perfect day, and every day, I find myself feeling incredibly lucky to be married to my best friend. These last three months have already taught me a lot about marriage and what it means to really start building a life with someone. In honor of it being our three-month anniversary, here are three things we have learned so far:

1. Make "couple time" a priority: No, I don't mean that kind of couple time (although...*blushes*). After we got married, we made plans with a lot of people, and suddenly, we hardly saw each other. Honestly, every weekend in September was totally booked, and while we had a great time with family and friends, we didn't find ourselves with a lot of time to just be newlyweds together. So, for October, we carved out two non-negotiable "us" weekends (barring serious injury, illness, or zombie attack) in which we go on dates, arrange stuff at home, or just veg out and play board games. It has made a huge difference in our relationship, because instead of feeling rushed to spend time together whenever we found a spare minute, we can relax and enjoy our weekends together.

2. Communication is awesome: I know that anyone reading this that has been married for longer than a nano-second is rolling their eyes at this one and thinking, "Duuuuhhh," but honestly, this has been incredibly important in the course of our relationship and even more so in our fledgling marriage. As I mentioned in an earlier post, our lives have become rather hectic, what with the two of us basically hitting the ground running when we got back from our honeymoon. Life really hasn't slowed down much, and in all of our rushing around, it can be tough to communicate as clearly as one would like. So, we've really had to work on making sure we are a) not keeping everything that bugs us (my darling husband likes to leave all of his little shaved goatee hairs all over the sink, for example) in until we explode about something mundane like the dishwasher not being loaded properly and b) that we actually listen to each other when things come up. As in, we put our phones away, put the laptop down, and turn off the TV as soon as someone says, "You know, I was thinking..." Even taking five minutes to really truly listen and communicate does wonders, even if it takes place as you both scarf down breakfast as you try to put on your shoes.

3. Even though you're a newlywed, you're still a person: There's this weird pressure when you first get married to go everywhere together, to do everything together, and to basically buy his and her everything and start working on a long list of shared hobbies. But here's the thing: as wonderful as being married has been, and as awesome as it is to spend time with my husband, there are just times when I need to go out and just be Mariela for a little while. Sometimes, I just need to blast Shakira until the house shakes, or sing Beatles songs incredibly off-key, or watch terribly trashy television while browsing Pinterest. There are moments when I'm totally self-indulging that I feel guilty about not wanting to spend every minute working on my brand-new marriage, but then I realize that doing all of those things that make me the person that I am actually help our relationship. Evan doesn't want a clone of himself that does all the things he does all the time; he wants me, and all the things that make me, me. That'd be so boring. So yes, there are days when I take an afternoon to myself, browse through all of the makeup and clothes I can't afford, or blast Adele in my car (I call those mini-concerts), or shake my groove thang at a Zumba class.  And the greatest part of all of that is that at the end of the day, I come home, happy, restored, and ecstatic to see my husband.

And there you have it. Three marriage lessons in three months. And now, my husband and I are going to celebrate three months of marriage by braving this disgusting Oregon weather and going to get ourselves some pumpkins!

Hey! We're Married! Now What?

Before we got married, everybody kept telling us how different everything would be. Being polite people, we would agree and carry on with our pre-wedding plans. Once away from advice-givers, we would scoff and say things like, "How much can things change? We've been together for 6 years, and lived together for five! All that change stuff won't apply to us!"

Oh, how wrong we were.  Everything started to change right around the time the plane touched down in Portland and we stepped off, glowing with newly married bliss and Maui tans.

See, we had had a plan before we got married. I had just graduated from Portland State University with a Master's Degree in Education, so I was to go off, get my own classroom, and start educating some middle-schoolers. My husband (gosh, that still sounds so weird!) had been accepted to graduate school, and was going to take things easy for the next two years. In short, I was going to be the Sugar Mama of the Tyler household, while Evan went to school. I was totally cool with that plan, but the Universe saw fit to basically toot in our faces and come up with a totally different plan.

Totally happy, but totally clueless about the Universe's plan

The Universe's plan consists of Evan losing his teaching gig due to huge budget cuts, getting a new job in a new district teaching a new grade a new curriculum (have I said "new" enough yet?) and also starting graduate school. As for me, the Sugar Mama plan fell through, and I am now scouring the internet every day for any (and I mean ANY) substitute job available. When I'm not subbing, which is annoyingly often, I am trying my hand at this whole, "keeping house" scenario I keep finding myself in. 

This would be a good time to let you all know that I am a notorious slob, and that I can't cook to save my life. My incredibly awesome husband (still weird!) has been in charge of most of the household stuff for the last two years while I finished up my degree. He can cook incredibly well, he knew at what temperature colors/whites needed to be washed, and he loved, loved, loved, vacuuming. I know, I'm totally blessed.

 In a way, we are both finding ourselves in roles besides that of Husband and Wife that maybe we were not totally ready for. Everybody was right; everything has changed, and we're doing our best to tackle all of these changes together. Thus, this blog. I've started this to chronicle this first year together, so in ten years, we can look back on this little account and laugh at how we took on the Universe's plan nifty little plan for us. It has been a crazy 87 days so far, and I'm actually excited to see what comes next.

Bring it, Universe. The Tyler's are ready for it.

Yeah. He's my hero. But I'm no damsel in distress, either!