In this partnership of life, I have been walking this road with the guy I am lucky enough to call mine. Our story begins like a sappy teenage romance novel. Two kids sharing nervous glances in a high school math class. Awkward conversations. Clammy hands holding. Seriously unnerving belly butterflies. Eighteen years since our first date. Eight-teen YEARS.
It began there, but has grown to be so much more.
How do you get from there to here? How do you find the one at so young of an age? How do you weather the storms and come out the other side stronger?
You start with two stubborn, bull-headed teenagers who were madly in love. In the crazy, manic, the-world-revolves-around-us kind of way. It was potent. It was all-consuming. But, it was above all, real. It was new and it was a learning process, but it was true.
It’s been thirteen years since we said our “I do”.
And, I’d do it all over again. Every hurdle. Every awkward conversation. Every painful process. Every.single.thing because it all lead to here.
Right here in this moment. With these children. And, this man. This man, I’m madly in love with.
He is my rock. When I can’t find my footing and feel like I’m floating without getting grounded, I can hold onto him.
He is my ultimate partner. In life. Marriage. Friendship. And, parenting.
He is our fun and laughter. He is a jokester and wannabe-comedian. He makes me laugh until my sides hurts and I’m running for the bathroom. He brings a sparkle to my eye.
He is romantic and remembers to say “I love you”. He also remembers to show me he loves me. His arms are strong, his shoulders supportive and his embrace long.
He is my parenting match. Fully. Equally. Day in and day out. We are walking this together, step by step. Hand in hand.
He is baseball. It flows like the blood in his body. It keeps him regulated and centered. There isn’t a spring or summer that hasn’t involved weekly games at the field. The smell of the grass, the sounds of bats cracking on balls and guys hooting and hollering are part of the soundtrack of our lives.
There is no pseudonym I could find for him that fit. How do you “rename” someone? There is no definitive nickname that is him. So, he named himself.
This is him to a core. The humor. The smirk and laugh out loud chortle he got when he announced himself through a comment on the blog.
Please let me introduce you to Thor. The man. The myth. The legend. My guy.