Once upon a time,

My love story began.  I was eighteen.  I was very silly.  I was a freshman at BYU.  I SAID that dating wasn't important to me.  And then there was a boy.

Tall,
smiling,
laughing.

I remember being in the dorm common area, with all those boys I spent so much time with.  One was playing the piano.  One was sharing some gouda.  He--Matt, I mean-- was lounging on the floor, making us all feel like we were hilarious.

I really wish I could tell you how it proceeded.  I wish I could say "I knew right then that I was going to marry that boy", but I didn't.  All I know, is we continued to have nights like that, plus or minus a few of the other boys, and then minus more of them and more of them, until it was the two of us.

I had no idea he would become my husband.

First, he went home for the summer.  We called once or twice a week.

Then he came back for a few days. It was like no time had passed.

Then he came back again, the night before he went into the MTC.  It was awkward and made me miss him a lot.

And then he we wrote.  Not perfectly. But we wrote.  And that's when we really started to know each other.

4/29/13

Some things I'm thinking about, and being better.

For about 12 minutes tonight, the motivational bug hit me and I was overwhelmed with a desire to organize my classroom, be a neat freak, and put together a cleaning schedule for our apartment.  I was pinning and pinning all these ideas for my classroom and making lists for things I want to do in hopes that I could maybe perhaps be good enough.

Because that's really what it was.  A feeling of inadequacy.  It creeps in all the time, I think to everyone's life, and here was my little bout of it.

It started yesterday (predictably aligned with a certain monthly visit that seems to be bringing crazier and crazier emotions each time it comes around).  It was hot in church, and I did singing time in Junior primary, nursery, and Senior primary.  We're adding a 4th time next Sunday, because their separating the crazy sunbeams out of Junior. (Was that my fault? And such thoughts...) We plowed through lots of songs because oh my goodness if I stop for a second they will all go crazy! (That's what it feels like).  By the end, I was exhausted, and in no mood for the new councilor to come tell me I should make cute posters and "jazz things up" and play games and and and (I know it was just how I was feeling. She was totally nice.)  And then the Stake primary president who was there the whole time came up (what did she think of me? Oh I'm the worst at this...) and gave me a (totally sweetly worded) suggestion, AND just as I was carrying out the huge box of stuff left from an old chorister, I was given a new visiting teaching assignment, which heaven knows is because I have completely slacked on my duties, which I blame on this crazy calling!

I barely made it to the car before bursting into little-kid-i-just-fell-off-my-bike tears.

You know what, this year of teaching that I almost have under my belt has taught me that my strength with teaching is the interacting with kids part. (Which that councilor actually complemented me on amidst her "suggestions".)  Let the world know it, my strength DOES NOT lie in cutesie.  I will not ever have the cutest classroom, or the funnest games, or the sweetheart voice. I will not even have the elaborately planned lesson with 54,782 visual aids, hand outs, and original art.  That is just not where my priorities are, and I'm plain not good at those things.  I am good at seeing kids, empathizing with them, and appealing to their sensibilities.  I am good at making them feel special.  I am good at showing them I care about them.  I am not good at putting a lot of outside time in to make each lesson, each minute, the amazing experience it could be.  And that might be is a weakness of mine.  I will fully admit to it.

It makes me scared to teach third grade next year, because is that what they expect of me?  That terrifies me completely.  That takes me back to the way I felt during my internship (as in, I want to die I hate this job its not worth it I'm not good at it I can never be what they want me to be and if I have to be a sweetheart I can't be and its so much work to plan like this and I just don't have the energy and so on...)

And THEN I think, if I can't do this (or keep my house clean or my car clean or even my bangs clean) HOW could I ever even start to be fathoming that it would be "fun" to have Kosterbabies?  What in the world woman!?!?

Back to positivity.  I have to say, that I know Satan works hard at me through these feelings of inadequacy.  I think its true for all of us.  He finds that one thing to make us feel like we're not good enough, and directs our attention to it until it becomes a ridiculous fixation that is blown way out of proportion.  I have to try and take these little bouts of self-doubt and turn it into motivation to be better.  I have to turn it into "Well okay, so Heavenly Father is trying to humble me a bit.  I knew in my heart before now that I could be better about ______.  Why don't I start by doing _________. "

And then I get 12 minutes of hyperdrive motivation, until I decide to go and write about my feelings.

Mishaps

Since we've been married (coming up on a year, what the heck?!?), we've had a few... mishaps.  Now, a lesser person than I might be a little embarrassed by these, but I think they are funny, so... story time!

Once, a tire on our car was flat-ish.  We filled it with air.  It was flat-ish again the next day.  Rinse and repeat... a few times.  (Busy schedules!) Eventually, it was flat flat. Matt changed the tire, and went to the tire store, and got new tires.  The next day, it was flat again.  Not kidding.  Um hello?  So he changed the tire again, and took it back to the shop, and yelled at them like crazy.  Just kidding.  I have never ever heard Matt yell.  He probs was the nicest ever. Whatever, it got fixed, yay! Oh, and did I mention he had to sit in the snow while changing the tire? Well then.


More recently (Sunday), we came home and put ALL our unmentionables in the wash, you know, so we could have clean ones for the week, right? Well, the washer decided to stop.  Mid-cycle.  And not start again no matter how hard we tried.  Blergamerg.

I tried to fix it.  Matt pulled it out to look at it, and.... a sock fell in the lint trap of the dryer. (I neh-ver leave unmatched socks on top of the dryer!  No way!  So now, here we are.  Unmentionables like soup in the washer. Afraid to turn the dryer on for fear of explosion.  Say now!

Much google-ing occurred, and we went in search of a part! (The next day, after unmentionables were removed from soup, rinsed and blow-dried, and we went to school etc...)  To Lowe's!  They don't have parts!  To random "Mending Shed" that happens to be right by our house and also next to super sketchy abandoned buildings!  They close at five! Order the part on Amazon! Proceed to wait! Huzzah!

Matt had to tear apart the dryer (well, unscrew a bazillion annoying screws), and he got the sock out.  We dried the rest of the unders.  We went to bed annoyed.  And we wait!


I know there's a billion more mishap stories that I can't think of right now. Somehow, being with my love, and getting to see him get lint in his hair, and wet snow bum and the like makes it a little more fun. (Even if we grump about it...)



Did I just write a whole post about how I like to laugh at my husband?  Sorry honey, didn't mean to!

Spring Break Ramble

I just read a bunch of old blog posts.  You know what, sometimes I think I'm funny.  I don't know that anyone else does, but... I don't think I really care.

I'm on spring break right now.  Its perfect timing.  Those fifth-graders are turning into crazed 11-year-olds, and driving me nuts. I needed a break from them.  I love them, but I needed a break.

Since Matt still has school, I'm not doing anything too exciting.  Today I got to go with him to his "Preparing for Medical School" class.  Sister Samuelson and Sister Samuelson (sisters in law, not sister-wives!) talked about medical school from the wife's perspective.  It was good to hear these women talk about their experiences.  They talked a lot about focusing on the positives and being happy in whatever stage you are in.  Isn't that such a good perspective on life?   I love that idea.  I know I need to apply it, even now.  I SO OFTEN live in "I will be happy when"/ "What's coming next" land that I don't realize the beautiful wonderful things that are happening around me right now.

Like sitting at the kitchen table with that handsome man as he absent-mindedly half smiles.  Like getting burgers together.  Like looking for a birthday present for him.  Like just picking him up from school.  Oh these things!  They are so much fun!  I can appreciate that now, if I just WOULD.


I want to talk for a minute about how incredible my husband is. He works SO HARD.  And its for us.  I'm glad he's going into something he loves.  Even if its incredibly over my head MOST of the time.  I've been watching Scrubs just to try and get some medical lingo.  I don't know if its working...  Back to him.  He said tonight, "lets do something fun every night, since its your spring break"  I said, "its your birthday week".  "Its spring break!"  back and forth, back and forth.

I love that we can make fun of the strange noised the other makes, and of yawns, and sneezing... I love that we sing together, and cuddle, and dream about the future. (Hopefully mostly in the "won't it be fun when...." rather than the "I will be happy when...")  I love that we both like Diet Dr. Pepper and America's Funniest Home Videos (Don't tell.  I used to hate it.  But I love it with him.)

This marriage thing is rather great.  Its pretty cool to have someone on your team.  And to be on someone's team.  And to be in love.

How's that for random.  I think I'm done, for tonight.

Feeling 10 years old.

So today something happened.

I was late, again.  It was snowing.  I checked the weather, but we still didn't leave early enough.

Don't worry, I didn't get in an accident.

So, I was late for school.  Today was the day of the big writing test.  It was bad that I was late.  And I was late on Friday because of snow then too.  Ugh, embarrassing.  Someone took my class, and it was okay.  But I came in the door and my students!  Oh my students.  They ran out of their seats. 
"You're laaate!  Why are you late Mrs. Kosterrrr?? What took you so loong?"  Oh. I felt like I was ten again!

How is it that spending time with ten-year-olds make that happen?  I am their teacher! I am a good 13+ years older than them! (Don't tell. They like to guess how old I am.)  I don't understand!  And yet there I was!

And I said, "Don't you think I feel bad?  Don't you think I did my best?"  *cue getting a little choked up* (definitely NEH-ver did that as a kid...) (Actually I did it all the time...) "Don't you think I wanted to be here?"

Apparently tears (really it was only slight eye-mistiness and a very little voice shaking), are a lot more effective adult to kid vs. kid to kid. (When I was a kid, they just looked, turned around, and giggled a little. Oh I still remember.  I see them do it to each other.)

Suddenly it had all turned around.  "Mrs. Koster, was your drive really bad?  I heard you telling that teacher it was a parking lot. How far away do you live again?  Woah I wouldn't want to go that far every day..."

Empathy! What?  If only I could teach them to treat each other that way!  They really are the sweetest, once they get out of themselves! Oh, have I taught them anything?  And such feelings...


Then it was inside recess and they were hooligans and I had to be mean Mrs. Koster and my own empathy rather flew out the window.  I made a kid cry. I apologized but I still don't really feel bad about it.

Oops.

Cleaning the Kitchen

“The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best cure for weariness is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired. One of the great ironies of life is this: He or she who serves almost always benefits more than he or she who is served.” President Gordon B. Hinckley

 ...

Okay, so no great service was done in this house tonight.  I just felt bad about myself, and I felt like a slacker wife, and I didn't make dinner. (We had Cafe Rio.  And it was good.  But still.)

So I put on my headphones, and I did the dishes.  They were gross.  Its been a crazy week. But I did them.  And I took the trash out too.

And it came to pass that I felt better about myself. Amen.

Sunday

He's cooking.

I'm sick, dreading work tomorrow, and blogging.

He's incredibly good.  And nice to me.  I would love to say that he is cooking because I am sick, but lets face it.  He always cooks.  He says he likes it.  I know I like it.

My house is messy, but much cuter than last week.  On Monday my mom and sister came and we bought curtains and painted.  It looks better but we still need to put pictures up.

Its weird that that was just a week ago.  It feels like much longer.  Its been a very long week.  Matt's grandpa passed away.  We saw him Wednesday night, Thursday night, and just a couple hours after he died on Friday.  It was sweet to be surrounded by family, and he had a stroke 8 years ago, so he hadn't been himself for a while.  But it was still a little sad. It was sad to think that I never knew him, and that my future kids wouldn't.  Well, on this earth.  Maybe they're getting to know him right now.  I don't know how that works, but its a nice thought.

It made me want to hold onto life and never die.  It made Matt say he wanted to die young(er) and quick, so he wouldn't have to suffer. I get that, but it also makes me sad.  I don't want him to die ever.  Bleh.  I don't like thinking like that.

Let's get back on a positive note.

Its snowing, which should clean out this nasty air. (Worst in the nation. Ew.)

I now only have 22 kids in my class (I'm sad one moved, but maybe it will make life easier.)

My husband makes a cute funny face while he grates cheese.

We got to see Matt's dad and sister this week, and it was so so nice to see them.

My primary kids are adorable.

I took a two hour nap today.

I like Sundays.