Tuesdays with Muerte

Introduction Note: I originally wrote this circa 2016. It is springtime in Provo and the air is, once again, thick with love. With all of the Especially For Youth (EFY) counselors dotting the BYU campus in their brightly colored polos, I am reminded of a traumatizing, would-be-love story that is finally ripe for serious self-reflection after 10 years. Storytime I worked for EFY in varying capacities for 3 summers (2005-2007). It was one of the most demanding, most satisfying things I've ever done. I used to joke that the pay wasn't great, but the (spiritual) benefits were out-of-this-world. As a 23-25-year-old BYU-Utah undergraduate student, I was beyond my dating prime and feeling serious pressure to be in "wife-finding mode," despite not feeling emotionally prepared for that kind of commitment with another person. In EFY culture, there is an end-of-week relationship tradition observed by both participants and counselors. Although counselors were prohibited (and

10-day-old Kai His name — We thought Kai's name would be much easier to settle on than it was. Honestly, it was the last thing holding us up before the nurses would let us leave the hospital. Kai was always at the top of our list of names, but I supposed we would lock it down immediately after seeing him for the first time. Community  — In these COVID times, we were surprised (and grateful for) how many people served us (e.g., food, gifts, time). Prepared to be on our own, we bought 2 weeks of frozen food from Beehive Meals that we haven't even cracked into yet. Burp rag supply — We severely underestimated the number of burp rags we would initially go through. Despite having 30 rags, there were numerous times we had zero in reserve. (Granted, we have not been efficient in their use.) Back pain — We weren't expecting backaches for both of us. (Stacia is obviously still recovering from 2.5 of pushing. I just have terrible form while holding Kai.) We should’ve been doing pr