On marriage

Four years ago (this evening) my about-to-be husband and I stood up in front of our friends and family (and assorted venue staff), while a good friend of ours read this Ogden Nash poem:

I Do, I Will, I Have

How wise I am to have instructed the butler to instruct the first footman
to instruct the second footman to instruct the doorman to order my
I am about to volunteer a definition of marriage.
Just as I know that there are two Hagens, Walter and Copen,
I know that marriage is a legal and religious alliance entered into by a
man who can’t sleep with the window shut and a woman who can’t
sleep with the window open.
Moreover, just as I am unsure of the difference between flora and fauna
and flotsam and jetsam,
I am quite sure that marriage is the alliance of two people one of whom
never remembers birthdays and the other never forgetsam,
And he refuses to believe there is a leak in the water pipe or the gas pipe
and she is convinced she is about to asphyxiate or drown,
And she says Quick get up and get my hairbrushes off the windowsill,
it’s raining in, and he replies Oh they’re all right, it’s only raining
straight down.
That is why marriage is so much more interesting than divorce,
Because it’s the only known example of the happy meeting of the
immovable object and the irresistible force.
So I hope husbands and wives will continue to debate and combat over
everything debatable and combatable,
Because I believe a little incompatibility is the spice of life, particulary if
he has income and she is pattable.

The bolded line is one of my favorites. We even hid it in our crossword-themed wedding invitations. Because, as anyone who knows us well has discovered, this is a pretty good description of the pair of us.

One of us is stubborn, and digs in their heels when their position is threatened. This. Is the way. It is going to be. Period. Convincing this one to change their mind can be an undertaking; even more so when they’re convinced that they are right. Conceding that there may be another, better, way is done grudgingly, with some muttering afterward.

The other is determined and lets nothing stand in their way when there’s something they want–even if it means an uphill battle against opposing viewpoints. For heaven’s sake, why can’t the rest of the world just see that they’re right? And while negotiation is nice, there are times when steamrollering is much simpler and faster.

It’s not entirely clear which of us is which, although it’s certain that the roles switch off depending on the situation. Most of the time, the force and immovability are directed outward, but there’s been an occasion or two when we’ve butted heads at home. Two strong personalities sharing one marriage. It could well be a simmering trainwreck. But it isn’t.

You see, immovable objects can also stand firm and give their partner someone to lean on without fear that they’ll give way. We are strong for them even in the most difficult times. We support them through sickness and stress. We are family, and we can stand up together against anything.

Irresistable forces can also face challenges head-on and propel our partner if their confidence flags. We carry the family over even the worst bumps in the road. We push aside the naysayers, the worries from the past, the discouraging statistics. We are family, and we will get ourselves through anything.

We’ve had our conflicts. We’ve had our trials. And we’re committed not just to getting through them, but to getting through them together.

Happy anniversary, immovable and irresistible husband.

Walking together at wedding rehearsal



More than I could ever promise

I have a husband.  He is wonderful.

We met many years ago while helping to run an intern puzzle-solving competition at Microsoft. We started dating in 2005.
In 2007, in front of about 125 people who shared our geeky puzzle-y interests, he asked me to marry him.
I was so surprised that it took me several seconds to respond.


We were married in March 2008, with a couple dozen friends and families to bear witness.
As a tip of the hat to a Montana girl gone west, Mother Nature gifted us with a surprise snowstorm.
The California guy handled it with flair.

I think he’s a very handsome fellow.  He’s a full foot taller than me, and his eyes crinkle up when he smiles.
Most days you’ll find him wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but when he wants to, he cleans up real nice.

He’s a great husband. He does things like wash my car as a surprise when I’m out with my mom and sister, and buy me pistachios when they’re on sale just because he knows I’m addicted to them. True, he’s not always great about picking up after himself (but then, neither am I) and sometimes we get into arguments about stupid things. But he shows me love in so many ways, like being consoling when I’m taking days to work through a tough decision, and listening to me, and remembering the little things that are important to me.
He puts up with my occasional stress-induced spazz-outs, and he takes care of a lot of vital household tasks that I often overlook and forget to thank him for.

On top of that, he’s a great dad to Kiddo. They play together, they read books, they enjoy being around each other.
Kiddo is continually amazing us with how quickly he learns things, and he gets plenty of love and praise from his dad whenever he shows off a new talent.

I love him (both of them) so much.


Happy anniversary, dearest husband.  Here’s to many more wonderful years together.


Photos 3, 4, 5 and 9 copyright 2008 Rathbone Images

Photo 2 courtesy of Jan Chong