I began as That Girl. When I was engaged I became That Bride. On October 11, 2008 I became That Wife. Why did I choose to base my moniker off of a TV show that ran from 1966-1971 which I have never seen? I have no idea, but the name stuck and I can’t imagine being anything other than That Wife (well, except Mrs. Avocado).

I’m a farm girl from central Washington living just outside of Dallas. That Husband hails from Poland which means I will be writing often about the cross-cultural experiences we have. Like how my father-in-law sent my parents an email letting them know that after researching the size of Polish farms and comparing it to the size of my fathers farm, he has determined that his son has married the equivalent of the landlord’s daughter. I never realized what a catch I am.

I am finishing up my degree in English through the distance learning program at BYU and as soon as I walk and accept my diploma I plan on becoming a baby making machine. There, that probably answers your first question. Yes, we plan to have children, but not until I graduate. Actually I plan to have them (you know I am the one doing the pushing and the moaning and the groaning), and then we plan to raise them together.

Right now we live in Dallas, but in a year or so it could be Boston, and then it could be back to Dallas, or London, or Chicago, or any other place that wants to offer us enough money to save for a leisurely retirement. One day though, we will move back to Poland. Yes, we are really going to go someday. I plan to start learning Polish sooner than later. So that probably answers your third question.

Your last question might be about our belief system, as it is something you will read about on this blog from time to time. We are LDS, also known as mormon. We are Christian, we do not practice polygamy (seriously, we really stopped that a long time ago, it’s kind of an old joke by now), and That Husband and I collectively and seperately work each and every day to grow closer to the Lord. We believe that by being married in the House of the Lord, the Holy Temple, we were sealed together as husband and wife for time and all eternity. Their is no thing more important to us than working to strengthen our marriage and the bonds of our family.

This blog will begin as a record of newlywed life, and will eventually grow into the history of our family. In no way will it be easy, and it won’t be anything like “Happily Ever After” but we knew that when we started.

Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. There are many things below it, but there are also things above it. You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go. And in fact, whatever people say, the state called “being in love” usually does not last. If the old fairy-tale ending “They lived happily ever after” is taken to mean “They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married,” then it says what probably never was nor ever could be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships?

But, of course, ceasing to be “in love” need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense–love as distinct from “being in love”–is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by the grace which both ask, and receive, from God. They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be “in love” with someone else.

“Being in love” first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise.
It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it.
—C.S. Lewis