No. He’s not my brother

My situation is a little unique. In two months I will become a wife … and a step mother. I’m 21- years-old and he’s nine-years-old. Let me draw you a little picture.

9 => 21 => 32

What does this mean to you? Not much. It didn’t mean much to me, until a little over a year ago. Michael is 9, I am 21 and Brandon is 32. Michael and I are 12 years apart and Brandon and I are about 11 years about.

Yep. Almost an even split.

I went looking for a wedding dress the other day and I brought Michael along, so I wouldn’t have to go alone. My consultant asks “Is it just your brother with you today?”

Yeeeeaaaahhhhhhhh, he’s not my brother, he’s my future step-son.

(Icky. I wish there was a better way to say that. “Step-son” has such harsh connotations.)

While this would seem intimidating to a lot of people, I’ve never really thought too much about it. I keep getting questions like “How does it feel knowing you’re going to be a wife and a mom?”

I guess I should feel some fear of the responsibilities I am going to be taking on, the consequences my actions will have for all of us, but I’m not.

I grew up playing Mom. When you have six younger siblings and you start unofficially babysitting at 11 you don’t think too much about little things like being a step-mom.

Plus, I always enjoy when we have Michael. Its my time with my boys. Sometimes Michael is like a son: When we do family activities, clean house, limit video games and read scriptures but there are times where Michael is like a brother. We love pulling pranks on Brandon and last weekend Michael and I went rollerblading and made homemade swords--my recipe.

In the end, its kinda funny, Michael actually asks me for permission to do things, not Brandon.

I can't stop dropping the F-Word

Fiance. I only get to enjoy having one of these and being one of these for a couple of months. Since January, Brandon has been teasing me about proposing. The jokes were becoming relentless--and often disgusting. He loved making potty jokes with his son, Michael, about proposing to me.

I was starting to get frustrated with all the jokes. In all honesty, I was ready to get this wedding crap started.

Monday was a gorgeous day but Tuesday was ugly, Tuesday is also my day off from school. So, Brandon decided to spend the day with me. I kept asking if he wanted to go work and he kept declining, while making excuses about the weather and needing a day off.

Well, we goofed off most of the day. We actually scored a super sweet vacuum at D.I. for ten dollars.

I thought that would be the highlight of my day, but it wasn't.

We were sitting in his living room that night and he decided to start teasing to me, again. Brandon told me to close my eyes and stick out my hand.

I told him, frankly, that I didn't want to, that I was tired of the teasing. He told me to do it anyway. So I did. Well, the butt started licking my finger and I open my eyes to tell him he's crazy, but all he says is to close them.

Then he just pops the ring on my finger. He told me how much he loved me and wanted to marry me. And then a few seconds later he got on his knees and did it officially.

Anyway, I just thought I should tell our little story, mostly for memories sake.

I am very excited to spend the rest of my life and hopefully someday the all of eternity with Brandon Felsted.

Oh and I'm also excited to F

art with him for the rest of my life.

Get your mind out of the gutter.