All right. Today, I feel like telling a story.
It starts about thirteen years ago. My family was good friends with another family. We spent A LOT of time with them. My parents and the other parents were friends, my older sister was dating one of their sons, and my younger brother was best friends with their other son. I was kind of a 9th wheel. So, one day we were at their house and their mother mentioned that their oldest son was moving back in a couple of weeks. I got really excited. I was only twelve so I wasn’t thinking, “Oh, well he’s older and he’s not going to want to be my friend.” I just assumed him and I were going to be the bestest of friends.
A couple weeks later our families were outside after church and I turned around to say something to the brother that was dating my sister. What came out of my mouth was “Hey, J--- HEY! You’re not him!” The reply I got back was “Yeah, you’d be surprised how much I get that.”
We were introduced and almost immediately became VERY close friends. I could tell him anything, and he told me a lot about what he had been doing before he moved back.
About six months later I of course developed quite a crush on him, so at our church’s Christmas show (he told me about this, I don’t really remember it.) I handed him a note asking him if he had a girlfriend. From then on we considered ourselves to be “dating”. In reality it was more like just being friends but with the understanding that neither of us would be in a relationship with anyone. We would hold hands and that was the furthest we went. Well, I got older and by the time I was fourteen or fifteen I knew I loved him (he was my “first love”), but I was young and I wanted to date other guys so I broke up with him. Almost instantly I regretted it. He moved to some mountain to take care of it in the off-season and I called constantly and wrote him letters. Somehow he didn’t get the hint, and ended up within the next three years getting married. I remember when he got married I was SO upset. Then, a couple years later I met and married my ex-husband and we had my first child. That relationship went downhill fast and by the time my ex-husband and I split up I had already restarted my friendship with my “first love”. But of course he was married so it was ONLY a friendship. I moved in with another man, and got pregnant with Adia. Adia’s birth father was extremely abusive, and the day after I found out I was pregnant with her I moved out of our place and into a homeless shelter.
I told my “first love” about the fact that I had left and he told me that he and his wife had split up at the same time my ex-husband and I had but he hadn’t wanted to say anything.
After a month or so in the shelter I was going crazy. I wanted to be out of there SO badly. I sent the “F.L” a letter asking what I should do and telling him how depressed I was. He sent me back a letter basically telling me how I shouldn’t worry and that I was a very good mother. We started sending each other cards and letters. I then ended up moving closer to where he lived and into a home for unwed mothers. On December 17th 2004, he told me he still loved me and we got back together. I began working full time and going to school to become a paralegal full time. Six months later Adia was born. My mother, my sister, my friend Jessica and my friend Elita were in the room. As was the “F.L.”. He was there for the entire thing, the entire 16 hours. He even cut the umbilical cord (which I, of course, do not remember). Two months later I was at work and I went out back to take out the trash and he was there waiting for me with a diamond ring. He asked me to marry him right next to the trash dumpster. Very romantic J.
Four months later on December 17th, 2005 we were married at my parents’ house. My son was even there and my husband held him for part of the ceremony and didn’t even mind when my son started beating him in the head with a purple plastic telephone. I think it was the funniest wedding ever. It was perfect for us. We have been married now for almost two years.
I was thinking about it last night and we have a great relationship. Of course we argue and of course we fight, but that’s normal. We are also best friends. I can still tell him anything. I completely trust him. Our marriage, compared to my first one is a complete 180*. I’m not worried about what he is doing or where he is. He doesn’t drink or smoke or do drugs so I really know there is nothing to worry about. I know he would never cheat on me. It’s wonderful. We make each other laugh all the time (me usually without trying to). And we definitely are co parents to Adia. If I am sick or something he picks up the slack. I get along with his parents.
I am a stay at home mother. That is not my first choice in what I would like to spend my life doing. I would like to be working outside the home, but where we live daycare is SO expensive that I would be paying more to put Adia in daycare than I would be making. But my husband makes it worthwhile to stay at home and raise Adia and clean. He gives me money each week, and if I need something or really want something I can have it. Our town isn’t dull either. There is ALWAYS something to do. There are story times, and play groups, and two playgrounds, free concerts once a week in the summer, there is a MOPS group, and plenty of places to walk. Everyone knows everyone, and there really isn’t any drama in this town. Occasionally I wish we could live in Laconia because to me that town is perfect, but this town is close, and I know too many people in Laconia that I really don’t want to see anymore.
Tomorrow I am going to take a bunch of pictures of Adia and post them. It’s been awhile. And yeah, I haven’t done a Sesame St. post lately, but I’ve been sick. I’ll try to remember this week.
Ciao.