Tag- In German, It Means "Day"...Here it Means Another Blog Entry

Tamara did a nearly identical entry on her blog, but I'm doing it again since Emily tagged us.

How long did you date?
Our first date was August 19, 2006, and we got married August 3, 2007, so just a shade under a year.

How old is she?
25. Every year, she turns 25. But she's two years older than me, and I was born in 1982, so you do the math. That way, I avoid the pitfalls of mentioning my wife's age in a semi-public setting.

Who eats more?
Me. Easily. I often have to finish Tamara's food for her because she has a stomach the size of a marble.

Who said “I love you” first?
I did. The story? Excerpted from Tamara's blog: "We were talking in the car about something, and I (Tamara) asked him a random question about....well, I can't even remember. Then, he just said quite bluntly..."If you're asking me if I love you...I do." Kinda cute, and I just sat there, smiled and said...."OK. That's not really what I was asking, but ok." And I was speechless (there's a first time for everything...)."

Who is taller?
I am by several inches. But she has plenty of pairs of high heels to help make up the difference.
Who sings better?
Tamara says I do, and I guess she could be right. But she is far less shy about singing, which exceeds any discrepancy in our respective talents.

Who is smarter?
Loaded question. Who knows more about movies and nerd stuff and Russian? I do. Who knows more about stuff that matters and is important and Spanish? Tamara does. Who is more practical and sensible? Tamara, by a landslide.

Whose temper is worse?
I am far quicker to get angry or upset, but can get over it quickly. For Tamara, again her words: "I have to admit...I hold on to things for longer than he does. I have a hard time letting things go. He is much better about saying "I'm sorry" and cuddling up to me in the bed when he knows I'm upset. I like it so much that sometimes I just play like I'm mad just so he'll roll up in a ball on his side of the bed...and 3 minutes later roll over next to me, put his arm around me, and say "I'm sorry."

Who does the laundry?
Tamara. She makes me help her fold the clothes, and after 8 months of marriage, I've almost got it down.
Who does the dishes?
I do. Because Tamara makes me do it.

Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
From the foot-of-the-bed perspective, she does.

Who pays the bills?
Tamara- she manages the money, which is why we have enough for her to then go out and spend

Who mows the lawn?
We have no lawn to speak of, so I will refrain


Who cooks dinner?
Living with Tamara's parents means her mother does most of the cooking. Tamara cooks on occasion, and I help out. No idea who will cook more when we move out.

Who drives when you are together?
I think Tamara ends up driving more, because she has a nicer car and hates some things about how I drive.

Who is more stubborn?
Tamara says she is, but I think we are pretty evenly matched.

Who kissed who first?
Funny story- it was on our third date, and we had stayed up very late (like 4 or 5 in the morning late) talking and playing a silly knot-tying game with strings from pillows (don't ask). I drove her home, and we spent another hour talking some more. Well, we decided it was time to part ways for the night, and after dancing around the issue for about ten minutes, I got Tamara to admit that she wanted to kiss. So we did. I guess that makes it kind of mutual, doesn't it?

Who is first to admit they are wrong?
Tamara is always right, so this one's a no brainer!
Whose parents do you see the most?
Considering the fact that we live with her parents, they are the easy winners. But we still get to visit my folks about once a week, usually for Sunday dinners.

Who proposed?
I did, three times (unofficial count...official count was two). First time: I brought over a basket of breakfast, and the ring box was buried. Tamara found it and got real quiet. She was too entranced to open it, so I did and asked her to marry me, but I didn't get on one knee. She said "yes" anyway. Second time (the unofficial time): just to cover my bases, as we said good night that same day, I got on one knee and asked again. She said "yes" again. Third time: Long story short, I got the jitters really bad and we called off the engagement, though we still dated and saw each other regularly. After I got my head straightened and figured out Tamara really was the love of my life, I surprised her on a Sunday morning and told her it was for real and for keeps this time (and I got on one knee again). She said "yes" again. The moral of the story? She said "yes" three times, so as far as I'm concerned, she has no room to ever say she didn't know what she was doing when she married me.
Who is more sensitive?
Tamara is more sensitive to things that are important, and to others' feelings and perceptions. I'm more sensitive in that I cry at movies more often. And I think I let my feelings be hurt more than she does. My skin is paper-thin (and very pale).

Who has more friends?
Impossible to say. We both have a good share of friends both recent and perennial.

Who has more siblings?
I win this race by two. The score: Steven-6 sisters; Tamara-1 brother and 3 sisters

Who wears the pants in the family?
Literally speaking, I do. She wears pants sometimes, but mixes it up with dresses and skirts every now and then. I only wear pants. Or shorts, sometimes.
Who are you tagging?
Mom and Dad Lambson, Jeff and Kelli White, Nils and Emily Bergeson, Jacob and Morgan Rogers

I love you with all my heart, Tamara. Thank you for being mine and taking me into eternity with you!

Comments

Peeser said…
Thanks for sharing (now I'll have to read Tamara's version ;)

Seriously, though, I enjoyed getting this little glimpse into what is already a sweet and beautiful relationship with an amazing woman (but don't sell yourself short, either- you're a pretty awesome guy, too!)

Love you both!
Tamara said…
Who wears the pants? Well, LITERALLY, you do (good thing you didn't mention that one time you left the house in a skirt on accident...). But figuritively....I DO. Steven, you are so good about taking my orders (even when I'm barking them at you). He does laundry when I'm grading tests, he packs my lunch when I'm too busy, he cleans the toilet when I'm too stressed (which I NEVER let anyone touch but me), and he's always telling me how beautiful I am, even when I'm clearly not. I'm clearly the boss here, though!

And thanks, Steven...for not revealing my REAL age (although you still did...ugh!)
emily said…
Love it! Good response to my taggy. Off to go read Tamara's.
Julina said…
Thanks for sharing your perspective. And for your (plural "your" - English is such a pain sometimes) example of what I am hoping to achieve one day.

With so many disastrous relationships and families around, it truly is a blessing to see the positives of a *good* one (same goes for Emily & Joe. Mom and Dad, too, of course, but I have to keep reminding myself that that's 30+ years in the making, not right away...)

Love you guys.

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