Issue 24.10

Finding out that you are expecting your first child is unlike any other feeling in the world. The miracle of creating another life is exhilarating. Then come the months of trying to decide on a name. Family traditions sometimes take away that choice. I knew if my first child was a boy, he would be named after his father-grandfather and great grandfather, but if he were a girl I could choose her name.

Being pregnant was exciting but also challenging as I suffered from morning sickness during the first few months of my pregnancy. My normal diet was replaced with dry soda crackers and 7-up to drink. Gradually my queasiness subsided as my middle expanded. New clothes with room to grow were needed. My sewing skills learned in high school came in handy. How hard is it to make a smock or sack dress?

By the time I was eight months along I was ready to give birth to this squirmy little one who never seemed to stop moving especially at night when I lay down to sleep. Longing for the day when my first child would arrive, I didn’t look forward to the delivery.

No one ever explains about the actual process of childbirth, just like in my day no one ever mentioned the other word that brings this about. What to expect? I had no idea although I had worried about it for the nine months of my pregnancy. When the reality of those increasingly stronger pains came, I found out that there was no way out of the experience but through it. Even though I wanted to run away, I was stuck in the delivery room. My doctor had discussed with me different types of anesthesia. Since I was not a “I’m going to do this birth all natural,” I had agreed to use “ether” commonly called “gas.” The options were few in those days

            Having some anesthesia helped me with the pain. I was somewhere else for a while. Soon the doctor wanted my help and consciousness in pushing out this new little creature. Muttering a few choice words that I didn’t know were in my vocabulary and with the help of forceps, my new baby was born. It was a “he” and alive though sleepy from the anesthesia I had taken to escape the painful reality of childbirth. I thought the most difficult part was over as I smiled at my first newborn. Check out www.lettersfromlin.blogspot.com for more writings by Lin Floyd.

Issue 23.10

Gone are the days of the learning to cook, clean, mend and iron from your mother, to prepare you for marriage and homemaking. She is probably too busy working a full time job. In my youth, women were protesting for equal rights, pay and opportunities. Careers were the “in” thing. Most young women considered getting some specialized training usually secretarial or elementary teaching in case they didn’t get married or if something happened to their husband and they needed to work to support any dependent children.

            During high school, I attended a homemaking class and learned a few basic skills, which proved helpful to me in future years. My mom as a widow was working fulltime to support our family. She had no extra time or energy to teach me what I would need for marriage. We ate many meals out and our little trailer didn’t take much effort to clean. Our wash was done at the laundromat, which was certainly a time saver. Mom did little cooking.

            So, it wasn’t until college days that I learned the practical skills of how to scrub and wax floors, clean bathrooms, and cook meals. I took turns with my roommates with domestic chores. What an eye opener that was. Especially the budgeting part, we only had so much money that each roommate contributed for food for the week. Then we had to plan menus, purchase groceries and cook. I learned by doing and thankfully I had some roomies whose parents had taken the time to teach them the necessary skills while at home. All I remembered from high school cooking classes was how to make cocoa or hot chocolate and perhaps cinnamon toast; but my roomies knew how to make spaghetti, casseroles and other basic dishes. Dorm living brought me necessary training in homemaking skills that would be helpful in my marriage. 

            I asked my grandmothers for recipes of their favorite dishes. Unfortunately, they had nothing written down but just put in a dab or this or that until it felt right. I remember watching my grandma make homemade bread and became so frustrated because she didn’t measure anything. I was about to undertake a life long occupation of “homemaker” which would require new skills not taught in college: cooking, cleaning, ironing, budgeting, and more-not to mention parenting plus living with a spouse. Check out www.lettersfromlin.blogspot.com for more writings by Lin Floyd.

Issue 22.10

With any marriage comes a whole new set of relatives called in-laws meaning family by law instead of blood. At some point when your dating gets serious, you’ll meet your future partner’s parents and siblings. For most couples this is a major step in furthering their relationship, introducing their sweetheart to good old mom and dad to get their approval or in more modern times just to meet them, sometimes even after the marriage or living together arrangements. If you’re still living at home, this meeting can happen early in your relationship as you begin dating. But for those residing on their own away at college or working, it takes some effort to make contact.

            My future mother-in-law came to visit me while I was a college student. Guess she couldn’t wait for me to come see her as she lived many states away. I learned by telephone of her impending visit. She wanted to check me out since I was to be her replacement. I sensed that it wasn’t easy for this strong woman to let her oldest son untie his apron strings.

            I guess I passed the test, for our wedding plans proceeded. My father-in-law who I met at a later time was more unconditionally accepted. I loved him immediately and called him dad easily. But my mother in law Marion was a different matter, seems she always had some bit of advice on anything and everything. I didn’t gratefully accept her suggestions but looked upon them, in my insecurity, as her doubts of my ability to be a good wife to her son. I was just grateful she lived hundreds of miles away.

            Just saying the word mother-in-law can send shudders up your spine depending on your experience with one. Mine was very controlling and her visits were stressful to say the least-bring on the tranquilizers, but not everyone has that experience. No one prepares you for this aspect of marriage, and having in-laws. There are two sets of them, the bride, and the groom’s parents. Probably the most difficult in-law relationship is between the bride and the groom’s mother, maybe because they are both female. Giving advice is a tricky situation when it comes to how to setup the home, raise the children, etc. You probably don’t ever appreciate your mother-in-law until years later when you become one and see what a challenging role it is.

Check out www.lettersfromlin.blogspot.com for more writings by Lin Floyd.

Issue 21.10

I remember my mom, just before I was to be married, asking me if I knew about IT. Of course I told her I knew. That greatly relieved her as my mom had been brought up when you didn’t mention certain words in public. I suppose some parents felt it was better not being prepared for these momentous occasions than facing the discomfort of talking about IT openly. So, I never had the “birds and bees” talk with my mom just like she never had that talk with her mom. Somehow, we were supposed face that first wedding night with no preparation at all.

Did pioneers or our parents have less adjustment in their marriages than we do? Perhaps, women knew their role; they were the homemakers and nurturers. The men knew they were to provide the living and protect their family. I know there were less divorces in that era. In fact divorce was something that hardly anyone ever mentioned, let alone did. That’s not to say that there weren’t lots of adjustments to be made for both partners in a new marriage.

Few modern day couples would think of getting married and moving into a small rented apartment. Most couples want a large apartment or their own condo complete with all new appliances, nice furniture and at least two bedrooms not to mention a washer and dryer. Contrast this with pioneer newlyweds who were happy to start married life in a tent while the husband felled trees to build a cozy one room log home which could one day be expanded to two rooms when the 8-10 children she would bear came into the world. Outhouses and indoor plumbing were luxuries not even imagined in those days.

But forward to the future, modern couples wouldn’t think of taking their laundry to a laundromat nowadays. We lived in a one bedroom rented apartment with no washer, and had to make the weekly trip to wash and dry our dirty duds. We struggled with a limited income and strapped finances, which included only one car that was not brand new. We never ate out but instead discovered recipes without end using hamburger and how to save money by mixing your milk with powdered milk. Then came the biggest adjustment of all when after a year of marriage, I discovered that I was pregnant.

Check out <lettersfromlin.blogspot.com> for more writings by Lin Floyd.

Issue 20.10

I remember my mom just before I was to be married, asking me if I knew about “it.” Of course I told her I knew about “it.” That greatly relieved her as my mom had been brought up when you didn’t mention those words like “menstruation,” “sex,” “birth control,” “pregnancy” or other related words. I suppose they felt it was better not being prepared for these momentous occasions than facing the discomfort of talking about it openly. So, I never had the “birds and bees” talk with my mom just like she never had that talk with her mom. Somehow we were suppose to learn about “it” through osmosis and make it through that first wedding night with no preparation.

Did pioneers or our parents have less adjustment in their marriages than we do? Perhaps, women knew their place; they were the homemakers and nurturers. The men knew they were to provide the living and protect their family. I know there were less divorces in that era. In fact divorce was something that hardly anyone ever mentioned, let alone did. That’s not to say that there weren’t lots of adjustments to be made for both partners in a new marriage.

Few modern day couples would think of getting married and moving into a small rented apartment. Most couples want a large apartment or their own condo complete with all new appliances, nice furniture and at least two bedrooms not to mention a dishwasher. Contrast this with pioneer newlyweds who were happy to start married life in a tent while the husband fell trees to build a cozy one room log home which could one day be expanded to two rooms when the 8-10 children she would bear came into the world. Outhouses and indoor plumbing were luxuries not even imagined in those days.

But back to the future, modern couples wouldn’t think of taking their laundry to a laundromat. We lived in a one bedroom rented apartment with no dishwasher, and had to make the weekly trip to the laundromat. We struggled with a limited income and strapped finances. Only had one car which wasn’t new. We never ate out but instead discovered recipes without end using hamburger and how to save money by mixing your milk with powdered milk. Then came the biggest adjustment of all when after 1 ½ years of marriage, I was with child.

Issue 19.10

Let’s talk about the wedding, reception and the honeymoon. We were married at the end of summer in 1964 in the Salt Lake temple which at that time had limited sealing rooms. The temple extension had not yet been built. Our wedding was the day after school ended at BYU. There were 90 other happy couples to be married that day. We entered the temple at 7 am with our family and friends hoping to have a wedding brunch around 11 am at the nearby Hotel Utah. The only problem was because of the backlog of weddings scheduled that day; we didn’t get out of the temple till around 5 pm. My mom, the brunch hostess, who was trying to wait patiently outside the temple until we appeared, was beside herself. That should have been my first clue that this marriage was not going to be a smooth journey.

Our reception was the next evening at the newly finished but now demolished BYU Alumni House. All went smoothly there until the reception line formed and my cowboy cousin Bill came through the line. He wanted to talk privately with the groom. Seemed he really wanted to kidnap my new husband, then he talked me into leaving my reception to go and retrieve my husband. Looking back now, I probably should have told him to save me lots of problems and just keep my new husband, but I didn’t know what I know now.

We started married life as poor graduate students with a one bedroom apt in Provo, no furniture and less cash. A honeymoon? It was spent painting second hand furniture we had bought from Deseret Industries and setting up our first “home sweet home” with other furniture loaned to us from my new in-laws’ rental apartments.

We were happy during the first months of our new marriage as we learned about our new and permanent roommate. Somehow, though, living 24/7 with the same person of the opposite sex is not the same as having college roommates. We as newlyweds shared everything from the same tube of toothpaste to laundry chores. We discovered the local Laundromat and spend many weekend hours not dating but doing our laundry together. It had to be done. Dating was over for the time, this was real life and not meant to be easy but no one had told us that before we married.

Issue 18.10

So after all the years of playing the dating game and analyzing each fellow for his husband potential, is there any way to be sure “he’s the one?” Fairy tales teach us that there is only one Prince Charming and his kiss will awaken us to true love. But reality is a little different, that’s why those childhood books are called fairy tales. In dating, we are only showing our best side to the other person to impress them. That’s where the expression…”wait till the honeymoon’s over” comes in. Even the most perfect spouse has faults and little habits that are annoying. Just ask your college roommate or closest friend or sibling for a list of your faults. But somehow we assume that meeting “the right one” guarantees us happiness forever after, back to the fairy tale mentality again.

            It’s an easy philosophy to buy into, especially as a young person before life has gotten to you with its disappointments and trials. What if there are many “ones” that you could marry and find happiness with? You just need to find someone that you want to try this grand adventure called marriage with and the commitment to not give up on your relationship at the first argument.

 Romantic love can be very intense and fills you with nothing but dreams of your perfect marriage. “Our honeymoon will never be over” you promise each other. Then comes reality. “Why does she squeeze the toothpaste in the middle? How come he never picks up his socks? I thought she knew how to cook. She calls this meat loaf? He’d rather play football with the guys than come home to be with me.”

            It has been said that “life is what happens while you are making other plans.” Nowhere is this truer than in marriage. Despite all the books, courses and discussions with parents, nothing can prepare you for 24/7 living together that marriage requires. So the first few months are a real adjustment as your passion cools and reality sets in. Hopefully you haven’t kept too many personality quirks from your partner and are able to have a sense humor about your new life together.

            There is also the possibility that the person you married will morph into an entirely different person because of your future experiences together. Nothing is as constant as change. You will change also.

Issue 17.10

Probably the most anticipated event in any young woman’s life is that day when she will meet her Prince Charming, fall in love, prepare for her wedding and its activities which can include: finding a date and place for the wedding, buying or making a wedding dress, selecting bridesmaids and their attire, making the guest list, designing-printing-mailing the announcements, scheduling a wedding brunch or dinner, catering and decorating for the reception or open house. Most of this work can be planned out by the bride years in advance as she dreams of her special day.
          The groom needs to purchase or make the wedding rings, propose and hope she accepts, endure all the planning, changes and stresses associated with getting married, not forget the flowers, the wedding gift and the honeymoon  plans. Forgotten are the days of asking the bride’s father for his permission for this big step in life.

            There is a way to simplify all this, just elope. A justice of the peace married my parents secretly one night while they were supposed to be at a dance. After they were married that evening, they had a little waffle party with their friends then everyone returned to their separate homes as if nothing had happened. The purpose of keeping their wedding a secret was because my dad didn’t have a job at the time. They were both 18, high school graduates and living at home. They were able to keep their elopement a secret for about a month. Although my mom’s little sister suspected something was up when she discovered a new wedding band hidden under a plate in the china closet. Needless to say, my grandma was not happy when she found out her daughter had eloped. Grandma did make the best of it because she liked my dad. She gave an open house for the happy couple, and my mom moved in with her in-laws while my dad pursued some jobs on the railroad.

            Some wedding traditions long forgotten are trousseaus and hope chests where the young woman gathered together items to use in her new home and to wear in her new role in society. She needed quilts, linens, pots and pans, dishes, china, silverware, etc. Nowadays young couples just register for all these items and hope to get them or exchange wedding gifts for other things they need and want.

Issue 16.10

Tall, dark handsome, recently returned missionary, not engaged and he was a dancer—should have been a perfect match! We met in the spring as I was working on my field project for my master’s degree in Dance. He volunteered to dance in my project, but we didn’t start dating until the following fall. I was impressed by his good looks and availability. We were both 22, more mature than many dating couples at BYU. I was a graduate dance “teacher” and he was “a student.” Perhaps that why it took awhile before we started dating.

            In the fall, he asked me for a first date to see a Portuguese foreign language film about Carnival as he had been a missionary to Brazil. After our first date, we dated every night or saw each other daily at dance practices. Being a poor undergraduate student at BYU, there was no money for an engagement ring but that didn’t stop us from getting engaged at Christmastime. He would design and make our rings so they were very creative and unique. That was my first disappointment after so many years of waiting to be engaged. Without a ring, it’s a little strange to go around saying “I’m engaged” and then hiding your ring finger, but I was happy and in love.

            He would finish our homemade rings just before the wedding. They were made in the Art Department then housed in BYU Academy’s building on lower campus. Carved out of wax, then dentist’s silver was centrifuged into the ring’s form in a plaster filled tuna fish can. A zircon gem was glued in to make an unusual engagement ring. It was very creative as our relationship and life together would be. Not what I had expected, but I had never been engaged before. I had now achieved almost all my goals: college graduation, new career as a dance teacher, and I was engaged to be married at the end of summer. Perfect or so it seemed.

            A busy summer awaited both of us as I toured Europe with a folk dance tour. He worked in a summer playhouse in Michigan then choreographed the Hill Cumorah Pageant. We were able to meet up in New York City for the World’s Fair before returning home to Utah together for our wedding in August and a new life together as man and wife living happily forever after. 

Issue 15.10

After a total of four years of dating experience in junior college and now at BYU, I couldn’t believe that I would actually be getting engaged during my first year of graduate study. I know my cousin Jody who was an airline stewardess had been successful with just one summer semester at BYU in finding her returned missionary, so I shouldn’t have worried. BYU was like a marriage factory. They even offered a very popular class called “Achieving Success in Marriage.” I had taken the course and passed but it hadn’t resulted in an engagement ring or a proposal. (I didn’t know that my Prince Charming was on his mission during this time. We just hadn’t met yet.)

How I had time to do any dating with my full load of dance classes was something else. I had to squash four years of class work into two years to graduate on time, plus performing in all the different dance groups at BYU. I had joined the Orchesis the modern dance group, plus the International Folk Dancers. Then just to keep up with my ballet, I auditioned and signed up for Program Bureau and went on several tours with them. This was all in my first year at BYU. Any new dance group that formed, I was there for more dancing experience. When a new group called the Ballroom Dancers formed, I became a charter member.

Unfortunately I didn’t have a car but only a bike. My dance classes were held all over the BYU campus which in those days was quite small but spread out with a lower campus next to the Women’s Gym in downtown Provo where the dance groups rehearsed. I lived in Harris Hall residences which were on upper campus, so I did a lot of biking which was good exercise unless it was an early morning 5am or 6 am dance rehearsals on lower campus. Biking in winter weather conditions was not fun.

In those days, women were not allowed to wear slacks or jeans on campus to class. So with 10 minutes between classes, I spent most of my days in leotard, tights and a skirt biking between buildings located all over Provo. Life was a challenge but I loved every minute of my many different dance classes: modern, social, square, tap dance and dance theory classes. Then I met “him” at a dance practice.