Friday, October 29, 2010

how's the married life?

So to kick off my "this-is-why-life-is-so-wonderful" posting spree, I thought I'd talk about that BIG change that hit me at age 20...marriage!

And not just marriage, but marriage to a certain Mr. Parker DeMille.

I blog about Parker like new moms use pictures of their babies as Facebook profile pictures (too. too. much.). So I tried to come up with a creative way to keep this short, sweet, and semi- to the point.

Anyone who's been a newlywed knows THE question...the one EVERYONE asks...friends, family, family friends, classmates, co-workers, college professors, bosses, bishoprics, doctors, dentists...really anyone you see or interact with your first year of marriage will give a quick hello before defaulting to this dead-end conversation starter.

"How's the married life treating you?"

It's hilarious! And happens just. like. clockwork.

And if you haven't seen it happen, you will.

So in my "how-to-blog-about-my-husband" brainstorm I decided...why not answer that very question??? Give everyone a quick update on what married life is really like so you can see (and still wonder) what it is about my married life with Parker that makes me oh so happy!

Before I start, one quote that I feel defines our relationship (thank you little sister whose FB page I stole it from!)

"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird,

and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours,

we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."

-Dr. Seuss

So here's my top 21. No more. No less (because I'm trying to learn to like that number).

Happy reading!

1. Hearing terms of endearment like baby cakes and lil' beeder on a regular basis.

2. Having sweet kisses interrupted by nose-licking fights.

Last one to sneak a swipe wins.

The game usually ends with my surrender, refusal to be so “absolutely immature,” and puzzlement over why he can’t ever just let me win...

...all followed by one last sneaky attempt to win it with a wet one and run away.

3. Finding all idealized “falling asleep in his arms” moments prefaced by a sequence of small squabbles over my constant fidgeting, cold feet, and middle-of-the-night barnacle behavior...

(i.e. my frequent [and slightly selfish] decisions to cause deep sleep disturbances by forcing him into the cuddle position [wrenching his arm around me, plopping my head on his chest, kissing his sweet sleeping face, etc. etc.]).

4. Discovering that I can be really demanding zealous with my requests for affection.

i.e. Conversation when tucking into bed last night around a quarter after 3.

Chelsey: Spoon me!

Parker: Baby I spooned you the whole movie tonight.

Chelsey: had to spoon me to be able to see the TV. Nice try. It’ll just be a second, I promise! I’ll fall right to sleep.

Parker: Mmmmm..... (long silence)

fine. ok. but you have to be still.

Chelsey: I will! I will!

(cuddles up to her husband. Then adjusts her pillow, adjusts the blanket tucked under her head, pulls the covers up closer to her chin, decides it’s not working, rolls to her back, rolls back over to her side, rolls to face husband, readjusts the pillow…)

Parker: Beeder…you said you wouldn’t move.

Chelsey: Ok I’m done!

(quiet for a few seconds…)

Chelsey: Now kiss me!

Parker: SO demanding! No. No I won't.

Chelsey: Then I will ask you again....

Parker: If I kiss you will you be quiet go to sleep?

Chelsey: Yes....

(quick little kiss)

Chelsey: Ok seriously??? Give me a real kiss…

Parker: Beeder!!!

You get the idea…

5. No more fights over who’s paying when we’re out on the town.

(Parker always insisted on paying when we were dating and even when we were engaged. He felt so guilty anytime I picked up the tab on anything…very chivalrous and cute, I know. It just made for many long conversations/small physical altercations at the cash register. I think I even took to inventing stories of gift cards and freebies… “Oh sweetie, stop stressing it! My internship hooked us up!”)

6. New fights over who’s driving.

Parker always drove when we were dating which is why I’m now conditioned to it.

But as it turns out, once we decided to seal the deal, I became a much less attentive passenger… he now prefers to have me in the driver’s seat.

I, on the other hand, love it when he drives because it allows me to enjoy the luxury of being able multitask, do my make-up, check my email, and avoid flashbacks to my driver’s permit days when Parker hits pretend brakes on the passenger side just like my mom used to.

When I drive, it scares him.

But I guess he sees risking his life as a
worthy trade-off for better conversation.

7. A manual dish-washing system (as our nonexistent dishwasher leaves us with the next best alternative…our hands!).

I wash.

He puts away.

99% of the time.

(sometimes he does it all himself just to be a helper...I have a wonderful husband, I know.)

8. Unintentional slips into baby talk, gangsta’ rap, and hillbilly accents.

I have no idea whether this is one of those things Parker inherited from me or just a silly alter-ego he decided to keep under wraps until I’d officially said “I do.”

Whatever it is…I love it! I never imagined my husband would be so silly with me.

Whether he’s saying

“I lov-a you baby,”

or "Pinchewe" (pronounced peen-chay-way),

or “What chu want, what chu need?”,

or singing butchered lyrics like, “Ooo baby I love you so much…” to that Reggae Baby I Love Your Way song…

...he makes me laugh.

All. the. time.

Other notable lyric lines he loves,

“st-st-stop talkin’ that blah. blah. blah,"

"you're a jerk,"
(believe it or not, that is a song lyric)

“hide yo kids, hide yo wife,”

"we gon' find you, we gon' find you,"

and my personal favorite,

"You are really dumb."

And please do not forget his semi-professional beat-boxing skills…

Who is this kid? seriously? And was he like this at home?

He is always surprising me.

9. Having a ready and willing helper in the kitchen anytime I decide to dive into domestic life.

He’s always asking what he can do to help (whether it’s because he really is that sweet, hoping to speed along the process, or terrified of what I’ll turn out if he’s not there to help…I don’t know).

But I do know that he NEVER sits on his fanny watching me tackle domestic duties alone. He’s always there when I need him, and always skeptical when I say I don’t.

I love that.

10. Many, many, many conversations about budgeting…

...and many more moments spent finding loopholes to get around it.

We both want the best for us. The only difference is...

I want it now;

he wants it later.

I’m trying to be better and learn from him,
but I can also be awfully persuasive.

I think he has a love-hate relationship with my spending habits.

Loves the spontaneity.

Hates the hit on our checking accounts.

(Not to worry in-laws…I’m really not that bad. Just not as wonderfully savings-savvy as our Parker. I really am getting better every day.)

11. Many weekend commutes to Provo spent mocking country story-songs and Owl city, pretend-yelling at bad drivers, and making pinky-promise pacts that I will not plan another activity until someone else decides to take the initiative to do it (none of these have held…I’m weak when it comes to resisting social fixes).


Parker and I are now foregoing the theater for a cozier abode. We toss out our giant green pillows, throw down a blanket, and settle in for the show with a bowl of our favorite healthy pop kettle corn...

(I’ve converted him….so yummy!).

It’s a little cuddle-fest and I love it!

(And Kristy, you’d be proud of your boy. He’s always been a movie watcher—absolutely hates to be bothered by kisses during a show. People never believed that we really watched movies in their entirety when we were dating…but we surely did! Never missed a minute).

13. Discussions about our PDA-levels.

Neither of us approve of extreme PDA. It’s off-putting and makes the people around you feel awkward.

But I think we’ve gone too far in the other direction.

We’re so anti-PDA that I have a feeling a number of our newly married friends think we have a rough home life.

Last weekend our friend Kayla walked into the room as I was trying to give Parker just a little tiny kiss. Really, like a peck.

He was falling over the arm of the couch and holding me at an arm’s length with a look of sheer terror on his face.

You’d think I was trying to suck his soul with a Dementor’s kiss!

So we’re back to the drawing board with this one…time to convince people we actually do like and even love each other.

Wish us luck!

14. School. Work. Work. School. Internship. More work. More school. Little window of playtime. Then internship. More work. More school. And TONS of hours spent on the road in the time in between.

We are truly living the wonderfully busy, stress-filled, and happy newly-married, working-student way of life.

15. Falling in love with gelato and Kneader’s sugar cookies all over again!

Then paying the consequences in the way of the love chubb L

…does it ever go away???

16. Starting to think the same way, finish each other’s sentences, and end each day with at least 3 jinxes. It's cheesy and so cliché to say it, but I will…

The whole idea of marriage allowing you to “become one in mind, body, and spirit" is absolutely legit.

I swear we’re becoming this one indistinguishable entity.

I see so much more of him in me and me in him too.

We’re changing each other in the best ways.

It’s exactly what I’d hoped marriage might bring.

so this is kind of the opposite of what I was going for...just picture the two fusing together to make one perfect light bulb.

17. Callings and all the other perks of a family ward…we’re SO happy to be back!

Parker loves teaching Sunday school for the 14-15 year olds and I’m just ecstatic to be back in YW’s.

I’m not sure if my Mia Maids are loving getting a double dose of DeMille each Sunday, but for our sake I hope they continue to endure it well.

We’ve had so many rewarding experiences serving with the youth.

Who knew we’d be back so soon!

18. A million-and-one bedtime giggles—again, did anyone know my husband was this funny?!

I knew he had a sense of humor.

I knew he could both dish it out and take it when it came to sarcasm.

But I never knew he was SILLY!

He is so silly! And SO funny! Especially near bedtime...

Recent favorites…

As I’m giving him little kisses on his cheek and chin and neck…

“Ack…you’re getting me dirty.”

When I just went in to tuck him in for his Sunday nap…

Chelsey: “Do you know how much I love you? You’re my little cuddle-bug!”

Parker: “No. I am your little sleepy-bug. I love you Goodnight.”

And my all-time favorite kumquatch noises…

Soft purr…

Chelsey: “Parker stop it! I can’t see you! Don’t you dare scare me.”

Soft purr…

Quick movement. He attacks! And purrs menacingly in my ear.

Chelsey: Screaming. Thrashing about wildly. More screaming.

“Why are you so creepy?! Why are you so creepy?!”

Another soft purr

Parker: “Kumquatch goin' to eat chu…”

19. Growing in our love for games (and in our love for renaming games on those days when Parker is feeling particularly silly…i.e. Red Baron??? Still beats me how he got that one to stick. Anyway…).

One of the best parts of our last 5+ months together has been Parker’s decision to jump on the game-playing bandwagon and enjoy life with us.

He loves games now.

I never would have dreamed it would happen.

But he does.

He often tells me how happy he is that we’re so “well-rounded” and even advocates and defends the value of games to his more anti-game big brothers. There are still a handful of “beedin’ board games,” but for the most part he loves them.

Whether it’s Hand & Foot, Red Demon, Ticket to Ride, or Pictionary he is a happy and willing participant.

It’s a beautiful thing.

20. Playing as much as we possibly can.

Whether we’re planning game nights in Provo with our best married (and single) friends, spending Sunday nights with family, or searching all of Salt Lake & Utah County for a scary movie for Halloween (and failing miserably), we are keeping social!

It’s been really neat to see our friend circles start to overlap.

Whether they wanted me or not, Parker’s friends have inherited another buddy.

And the same goes for my girls (who are trying to help me disprove the theory that none of our husbands will ever get along because we’re all so different and thus will marry men who are so drastically different they can never be friends. Thank you Kayla for giving us hope! [although I’m not sure if Michael really counts because he was technically my friend already]).

Long story short, we’re both loving the fact that we still have so many close friends and family willing to endure enjoy our company each weekend and help take our minds off the daily grind.

I love the diversity of our friend pool too! It’s so neat too to see that friendships can thrive no matter what your stage in life.

21. Lots of laughter and SO much fun.

Again, one of the biggest clichés used to express marital bliss, but so true.

We are each other’s very best friends.

I remember tears trickling down my face when I heard Parker say that for the first time.

I kept trying to convince him that he didn’t want to marry me any sooner than he had to…

Kept telling him that he’d miss his single life…miss his roommates, his “boys”, his very best friends.

He just looked at me, puzzled, and said,

But Chelsyou are my very best friend.

And he’s reminded me of that fact every day since.

I love him so much! I love all “the married life” has given thus far and cannot wait to live the rest of our lives together. And I love knowing that our forever will be spent loving, laughing, growing, and living the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I couldn’t have asked for a better person to do it with.

I love you Parker DeMille!

And I love our. married. life.

Thank you age 20 for bringing me this. I’d say it’s been quite the success J

Wednesday, October 27, 2010


My birthday today ended with quiet, mascara-smudged tears staining my pillowcase.

"How can this be?" you ask.

"Birthdays are the one and only day of the year that's all about YOU!
Presents, parties, cards, phone calls, texts, and a FB profile full of well-wishes and love from people you didn't think even knew you still existed (mostly because you'd forgotten many of them did)--yes, birthdays bring all of this attention!
all. for. you.

What more could you ask for?"

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I had all of that and so, SO much more.

But that didn't change the fact that my "special" day seemed so very far from special. So far, in fact, that some might even call it sad.

Let's recap...

1. I had to say goodbye to two people I love to...
2. to Provo.
3. ...arrive late to class.
4. a phenomenal documentary that made me feel the full weight of my own mediocrity.
5. ...semi-bomb a presentation I'd dedicated the whole start of my week to.
6. like a maniac back to Salt Lake.
7. a biting-cold YW activity I planned bomb.
8. ...wait alone for my to-go box birthday dinner.
9. ... then drive home in a silent car thinking about it all.

And let's all be honest...bad things happen when I start to think. puzzle over why I've yet to prioritize time and make the most of every minute. try and imagine what life would be like if I stopped enduring life and started living and loving it. question how I could possibly have let myself come with a month-and-a-half of graduation with nothing to show for it. wonder how I have allowed myself to pass up every. single.opportunity. my major had to offer. try and think back to when I decided to give up my high-achieving ways and settle for good instead of great. ask myself when and why I ever felt it'd be ok to give my YW anything less than 120%. try and see if I even know the face of the girl eying me in my rear-view mirror.

And I realized...

I really don't think I do.

But here's the thing. The longer I sat there thinking, the more I realized every single worry that stemmed from my 21st seemed to be about me. Me, me, me! This internal dialogue turned out to be a one-sided conversation between me and my biggest critic (who happens to be me as well).

And so, looking back on this post a day later I realized something...

I think I had a mini mid-life crisis.

Really! At 21! I couldn't seem to put my finger on it last night...couldn't seem to pinpoint what exactly had made me so sad. But with the help of time and a much better frame of mind it's so obvious to me now that 21 had been a benchmark year for me my whole life. And when I finally reached it, and life didn't look exactly how I'd pictured it, I freaked out and felt like I'd FAILED...big time.

I had some silly notion that I'd let my golden years sail right on by and that, if I didn't fix myself RIGHT THIS SECOND, before I knew it I'd be bidding farewell to my 90th year wondering why I hadn't decided to live life sooner.

With that whole realization came an a-ha moment...a little epiphany of sorts.

I finally understood the old adage, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

And so I stopped thinking about me.

...stopped thinking about my benchmarks.
...stopped thinking of the ways I measure my own success.
...stopped thinking of what I hadn't done and what I didn't have.
...and started thinking of the people in my life who've given me reason to celebrate in spite of it all.

And that list goes on.
...and on.
...and on.
...and on.
...and on.

And will make up the entirety of my next post.

I have SO many things to be thankful for!
SO many people I love!
SO many WONDERFUL changes in my 20th year that have made me happier than I've ever been (like marriage maybe???)!
And SO many little reminders that I matter...
no matter what my critical, crisis-prone alter-ego might have to say about it.

So get ready to see, that, while my birthday kind of bombed, I've had the HAPPIEST birth-week, month, and year of my short little life!

I'm planning on having many more of these to come...sans crises of course.
P.S. We've weathered this storm, but I have to say...I can't imagine what I'm going to do with myself when my 30th, 40th, and 50th come around. Yeesh...

...and as my dear Parker would say, "I'm scurred jus' thinkin' 'bout it!"

Monday, October 25, 2010


turns out I have a MAJOR turn-on when it comes to Mr. Parker...

it's bigger than his baby-blue eyes.

sweeter than his sweetest kisses.

more captivating than his killer smile.

it even beats out his monster/kumquatch/tiger purr...

it's his...get ready for it...
stretchy pants (a.k.a sweats)

Our lazing around on a Sunday afternoon created a monster in me! I could not keep my hands off my little cuddle-bug. I just wanted to kiss him and hold him and cuddle him all. day. long. And all because of his cuddle-wear.

We laughed and laughed at my crazy-daisy ways and Parker ate up the attention, milking his "svets" for all they were worth (he later had the bright idea of combining the "svets"-effect with his silly kumquatch growl and neck nibbling...still recovering from that one).

I feel like I've never loved him so much.

It took me awhile to work out why or how the "svets" had such an effect on me. After sifting through all our best moments and memories for some sign of the spark of "svet"-love, I came up with this:

Parker's sweats reminded me of the many, many nights of our dating life last fall where he'd come over late,
after my longest days,
and just hold me.

I loved being there in his arms and letting the whole world slip away...even for a moment.

I'd rest my head on his chest and just listen to the sound of his heart, comforted by its strength.

I felt so safe and free...because in those moments,
nothing else in the world mattered.

I remember wishing I could keep him all night...

...and now I can. And I love it.

I love him!

And I'm so happy something as silly as sweats can remind me of that fact.

So tack on to our Sunday snuggle-fest the pitter-patter of rain on the windowpane, fall air as crisp as Tristan's apple harvest (thank you again!), the sweet scent of pumpkin cookies, and piano covers of our favorite hymns & love songs and I'd say, we had the perfect day.

Welcome fall! It's so good to see you again...

Friday, October 22, 2010

sleepy alter-egos

As much as I hate to admit it (and often deny it), my reign of bad wifedom extends to our bedtime too.

I've always been a night owl, and despite Parker's hope that our being married would change hasn't.

If anyone altered their schedule, he did (at the start...). Now that he's back to his early bird ways, however, we're hitting the pillow at least an hour apart on any given night (he tends toward 11-12 o'clock bedtimes...i'm more of a 12:30 to 2 kind of girl).

It's worked out relatively well up to this point (on my end...).

He wakes me up when he leaves in the morning for a quick goodbye kiss and hug (or cuddle depending on how long it takes for him to convince me he has to go).

And I create little hiccups in his sleep cycle with my late-night barnacle-like cuddle-fests, lamp-lit scripture reading, computer volume issues (like when you click on a page with sound without realizing it with your sound up full blast and have a small heart attack), and inability to resist the temptation to kiss his sweet little sleeping face.

Oh there's many, many ways I find to be a "beedin" bedmate!

But my Parker's quickly learned to cope. And we've actually had quite the success with our sleep system...

...until last night.

With the hour hand hanging precariously close to 3, I decide I'd better call it a night.

Good luck finding the patience to work with your beloved bank patrons on less than 5-hours sleep, says a little voice in my head.

Better than nothing, I reply, and quietly click our front lock into place.

I hit the lights room by room (isn't this standard protocol for all girls up alone late at night? i may not be afraid of the dark, but I sure as heck don't think that means I need to wander aimlessly through its creepy clutches) and silently slide open the door to our bedroom.

By the time I make it here the apartment's pitch black...

cue overactive imagination.

Before we'd invested in curtains (or even said "I do.") I stayed in our apartment with a few of my BFFs. That night (after commenting on how awkward it was to sleep on Parker's side of the bed before he ever had) my dear friend Jillian asked, "Do you ever look at that window and worry someone will be in the little cubby-space looking back at you?"

Well I hadn't. But now I do...all the time.

We have daylight windows in our front rooms, which I love, but it's true that we are in a basement...and have basement windows...creepy basement windows.

And tonight that creepy basement window catches my eye again. I leap onto the bed as quickly as I can to avoid the window creeper's under-the-bed/ankle-grabbing accomplice and snuggle up as close as I can to my man.

He begins to stir, letting out a string of sleepy yell-whispers. Guilt sets in.

You spend the WHOLE day trying to be good wife and then go and let bad bedmate wife ruin it all. Way to go Chels.

Fix this...

I snuggle up closer to Parker and coo apologies in his ear..

"I'm so sorry sweetie. Are you ok?"

The yell-whisper returns. But this time I hear it...word for word.

"Im'ma gonna shoot you straight in the face!"

I panic and put as much distance between the two of us as the bed will allow (which puts me precariously close to the creepy long as ankle-grabber stays put I feel it's a safe trade-off).

I must be having a "When-A-Stranger-Calls" moment. Creepy window man is in my bed... I didn't really think that.
But I did have some serious concerns about Parker's dream themes.
Maybe this is why they tell you not to wake sleep-walkers...

Either way, within 5 minutes creepy-window-man sat back out on the ledge while I lay safely in my husband's arms. I decided I'd text him the incident so, come morning, he could see how absolutely wrong he is about my having the better end of the deal in the sleep system.

Instead he just woke up to a good laugh and cropped it all up to sports radio. I guess officials recently arrested some Florida football player for threatening to kill his girlfriend and the coaches sissy-ed out on his suspension and let him back on the team.
You can read the whole story here.

Thanks honey...I feel so much better about it all now.

I might just have to take my co-worker's advice and "git him before he gits me" (oh Shauna...she's a riot).

'Til then, I'll be curbing my bad bedmate ways, investing in a small safety force-field for sleeping, or bunking up on the couch.

I'm really counting on number 2.

Happy weekend-before-Halloween!