Vacation Time

                               
It's been on my bucket list for a while to go to Dollywood. We love the mountains as well as over-priced amusement parks so it's only natural. I mentioned this to my BFF and she was like, "My parents have a cabin right by Dollywood. Let's go for Spring Break!" That's what we did. Four adults, six kids, one cabin and lots of fun.

We drove up on Saturday and the kids stuffed their earbuds in their ears and ignored us the whole ride up. It was glorious. My husband and I were belting out old school songs. We did amazing renditions of Meatloaf's "I Would Do Anything for Love" and "November Rain." lol. We are corny.

After an easy 5 hour drive, we arrived at the cabin and stretched our legs. It was beautiful. You stood on the porch and looked out to the Smoky Mountains. I asked the kids if they wanted to explore the woods with me. I grew up in the Pine Barrens and spent much of my childhood in the woods. I also got myself into a lot of trouble in the woods as a teenager. :/

I took the older kids down with me. "Come on guys, let's blaze a trail!" I was so excited. They were not as adventurous as I thought they would be. "Ewww....there's spiderwebs. OMG! A branch just scratched me. I just saw a snake hole!" I was slightly disappointed that they were not thrilled with the forest exploration. "Come ON guys! That's the point! You are supposed to get dirty, look at spiderwebs, get a little banged up." They looked at me like,
                          
They did pull out their cell phones to take pictures to document that fact that they had braved the woods. That's modern day kids for you.

We hung out, went to pick up pizza and stayed close. That night we had to put on a charade that the Easter Bunny was coming. We snuck the baskets on the back porch, put them together, and then tried to hide them without the kids finding out.

The next morning, the little ones were so excited. My kids - not so much. They were looking for baskets full of candy, money, fun things...but you would have thought I told them they needed to find some sh*t sandwiches. My oldest doesn't believe in the Easter Bunny and my youngest whispered in my ear, "I saw this Pez in a grocery bag you brought home last week." I think that was her way of telling me she knows the Easter Bunny isn't real. I replied, "I don't know what you're talking about. I never brought Pez. The Easter Bunny brought it."

I don't care if these holes don't believe in magic. I will hide Easter Baskets and set cookies out for Santa until they go off to college. I need that.

We made a nice big Easter lunch/dinner. So yummy. Ham and all the fixings. Then we loaded up the kids and went out to explore Gatlinburg.

The weather was beautiful and the streets were crowded. Our first stop was an old fashioned candy shop. They had a machine making taffy and the kids stood in front of the window, mesmerized. There was so much yummy candy, I wanted it all. I told the kids that they could pick 2 things.

We walked through the aisles with our mouth watering. My 9 year old picked up a box. "Mom, what are these?" I laughed. "OMG! Candy cigarettes." I turned to my husband, "Do you remember these? Can you believe they still make them?" He grabbed them from me. "I used to love these things." My daughter asked, "Can I get them?"

I told her she could, against my better judgement. They were $.75. We used to eat them when we were kids, what the hell? Afterwards, I regretted my decision as I was walking the streets of Gatlinburg next to my 9 year old daughter with a candy cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Oh - the looks! Whatever, I never claimed to be mom of the year. Worst Mom Ever.

After window shopping and seeing the sights, the husbands took the oldest 4 to the movies and we went back to the cabin with the little ones. When we arrived, I got out to help the four year old out of her car seat. She looked at me with a big smile. "Miss J. Can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"You, you....you are an old woman."
I haven't laughed so hard in a while. Somehow it was much funnier coming from a little one and not my 6th grader. I am an old woman. haha

The next day we went to Dollywood. The kids were thrilled. They went on all kinds of crazy roller coasters. My children are thrill seekers. The bigger, higher, faster, scarier the ride...the better. They take after their father. I HATE roller coasters and any rides that spin. Which is pretty much all of them.

Somehow the kids talked me into getting onto a fire engine roller coaster. We waited in line and I watched it run multiple times and thought. This doesn't look so bad. Then I got on it.

The first dip and I was gone. I was screaming for my life. I hated it. I dropped the F-bomb. In front of my kids, and other people's kids. If there is one thing you can count on - it's me to say the F word when I really shouldn't.

I screamed some more. Then the roller coaster stopped. It was getting ready to go backwards. I was not happy. I was sobbing like it was my last minutes on earth.
                                
"I....don't...wanna...." Everyone was laughing at me. When the ride ended, I was so relieved. NEVER AGAIN. I vowed. I was traumatized.

I watched the kids while they rode rides. They were so happy. It was the best day.

When we got back to the cabin, we put the little ones to bed and the moms and dads got into the hot tub with the 4 older kids. We laughed as it started to overflow. My kids thought it was fancy. After a while, everyone got ready to get out but my husband and I wanted to stay a while longer.

We kissed the girls and all the kids were sent to bed. Finally it was just the two of us. Peace and quiet. Now don't get any ideas - there were no ulterior motives for being in the hot tub alone. Not that it wouldn't be preferable. It definitely would be. There was just too many people and we are much too old now to be excited by the thrill of potentially getting caught.

So we sat in the hot tub, quietly, enjoying the moment and each other's company. That's when my husband pointed through the window. At the top of the balcony, was the head of my 11 year old. Watching us. Like a stalker. Seriously? Not a moment of privacy. I asked our friend to close the blinds.

Quiet and alone again....until the back door swung open. Our 9 year old stood in front of us with a look that said, What are y'all doing in there? I was irritated. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah. I just wanted to know if I could get a drink."
She knows she can get a drink, she can get her own drink. She just wanted to be a stalker.

                            
                                   My kids at all times - stalkers and blockers.

I don't understand it. They always want to know what we're doing, what we're talking about. They want to be in all the adult business and conversation. It's maddening. Seriously, we are talking about pulling up the bushes in the front yard, how expensive the electric bill is, and how we are going to try not to be fat. Adult conversations are boring. They are not missing out.

We got out of the hot tub and headed to bed. Our next day at Dollywood was a little more trying. The kids were tired and everything else but we made some great memories.

I was sad to leave this morning. It was so nice to get away from the monotony of everyday life. To be with friends that we love to be around and eat whatever we want.

We loaded up the car and said our goodbyes. Then we drove down the mountain and headed back home. It was so beautiful. We admired the mountains and beautiful scenery. My husband took my hand in his as we drove down the interstate and the children napped.

When they woke up, we took turns playing all the songs we wanted to hear. It's a thing that we do. The kids groan when it's my turn. "Mom, don't play something crappy from the 90's." I didn't. I played the Safety Dance. We all love the Safety Dance. We drove along, all four of us singing along and I thought to myself: It doesn't get much better than this. 

The Shifting

My 11 year old daughter had a performance at school this evening. We dropped her off and sat down to wait for the program to start. While we were waiting, a teacher stepped in and asked if anyone knew how to tie a tie. No one said anything. I nudged my husband. He stood up and walked over.

The teacher had a boy standing next to her, maybe 12 or 13. I watched my husband stand in front of this boy and he pushed up the collar and buttoned it up. The boy lifted his chin as my husband folded the tie and adjusted it and then pulled the collar back down.

As I watched him, my heart broke into a million pieces. I never cared that we had no sons. I'm happy with two beautiful, healthy girls but watching him help this young man with his tie made me mourn the fact that he will never have a son of his own. I felt tears form in the corner of my eyes and I'm pretty sure that my uterus exploded.
                               
He gave the boy a nod and then quietly went back to his seat. I thought it was such a sweet thing. He is such an awesome guy.

We watched the kids march onto the stage. My daughter was so pretty in her new skirt and she sung her little heart out. I was proud of her but I feel a tinge of sadness that I couldn't quite explain.

Later this evening, I apologized to my husband for not baring him any sons. He shrugged, "You don't determine the gender, so technically it's my fault." He took the burden off. Stupid spermies.

I have not been myself lately. For many reasons. School will be over soon, we are in the last semester. I'm relieved. This school year has been exhausting. Every school year seems longer and more trying than the year before.

 My youngest daughter won't be at the elementary school anymore after this year. It is an ending. It's not bad and I certainly am ready for her to be in the same school as her sister. Logistically it will be easier for me. There is something so final about it though. Like she will be leaving her childhood behind, trading toys for training bras. She is my last child. It's a thing that happens but it comes much too quickly.

The kids are getting older. They are different. Their friends are different. Our challenges our different. The world is shifting and I haven't yet decided if it is a good thing or if I should be afraid. There is an under-lying uneasiness that I can't seem to shake.

Oh well, life goes on.

Yester Morning Was Terrible

                          
This week has been kind of weird because my husband had to go out of town for work and left me to my own devices, which is a little frightening.

Thusday night there was an event at Chik-fil-a that I took the children to. I let my oldest bring a friend. Afterwards, I took the friend home and her parents invited me in for a minute. "Would you like a peach margarita?" they asked.
            
We sat down and chatted for a while and laughed with the children. It was a very enjoyable time. I had planned to go home and prepare for the next day but life it too short not to enjoy the company of friends on a Thursday evening with a peach margarita.

We got home around 8:30 and the kids got ready for bed. My youngest was so happy that my husband was gone so she could sleep in bed with me. It's her favorite thing. She was beyond excited.
                                        
I was so exhausted and crashed. Unfortunately, I didn't sleep well because my daughter was on me all night.
                         
I kept pushing her to the other side of the bed but she would turn right back over and put her arm around my neck and her leg over my body. Not comfortable.

Because I didn't sleep well, I inadvertently pushed the snooze button 8 times. I woke up at 6:35. My 11 year old had already gotten herself up, gotten dressed, and was sitting in her room straightening her hair. "You should have woken me up!" She shrugged like she didn't care.

I told my 9 year old to get dressed and she announced, "I need to wear a red tee shirt for field day. Oh course she didn't have a red tee shirt in her closet. How she has 50 shirts and not one red shirt is astounding. My oldest daughter didn't have a red tee shirt. I went through my drawer and pulled out the only red tee shirt in the house.

It was a shirt that my high school English teacher gave to me from a poetry festival in 1986. The shirt is old. I don't wear it anymore because it is so thin and worn. I made an exception for field day. I held it up. "Look, I found a red tee shirt."

She looked at it and had a full on freak out. "IT DOESN'T MATCH MY SHORTS. IT HAS CHICKENS ON THE BACK! EVERYONE IS GOING TO LAUGH AT ME!!!!"

                       
Every damn day is some end-of-the-world level freak out with this kid. Christ! It's exhausting.

I took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "No. No one will laugh at you. It's vintage. Vintage is cool and I will tie up the back of the shirt so you can't see the chickens. It's has a William Carlos Williams poem. Everyone loves William Carlos Williams."
                                                           
She was like, "NO ONE LIKES WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS." Well, okay. That went well.

I finally got her to put it on. I tied up the back and rolled up the sleeves, securing them with ribbon. She looked super cute. She looked in the mirror and said, "I like how you did the sleeves. I'm totally vintage." This child is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

We were running late and needed to go. "Get in the car."
She protested, "I need a sweater."
"No you don't. It's not cold."
"But YOU'RE wearing a jacket."
"I'm only wearing a jacket so I don't have to put on a bra." You know, because I'm classy.

I was still in my pajamas. We got into the car and she said, "Can we go to the store? I want to get one of those water bottles with the special lids that pop out of top. You know?"

What the hell? Sure. Why not? We went to the convenience store and I got her the water bottle with the special top. In my pajamas and slippers. There is no shame in my game.

We got to the school after the bell rang. I needed to sign her in. We were walking into the school and I asked her, "Are you embarrassed that I'm in my PJs?"

She shrugged, "No. Everyone already knows how you are, mom." Yes, everyone knows I am a hot mess. I don't have the time or the energy to pretend otherwise. It's who I am - take it or leave it.

Before we walked in she dropped her water bottle and the top broke off. The special water bottle with the special top. She had a second freak out. "I NEED A NEW WATER BOTTLE." I was at my limit. "Just get into school."

I shuffled my slippered feet into the front office. They handed me the sheet to sign in. I had to write down a reason for being late. What to pick from:
A. Hot Mess Living
B. Fight With Daughter About Red T-Shirt
C. Went to Convenience Store to Get Special Water Bottle
D. All of the Above

I was so glad it was Friday. I was ready for the weekend on Monday afternoon. That afternoon the kids conned me into taking them to Taco Bell and having friends sleep over. We always have kids at our house. Whats a few more? I picked up my oldest's friend.

We were driving home and I talked about what they planned to do that evening. I am having a 90s party next month and I thought they might want to help me make decorations. "You guys can help me paint my cassette tapes."
My daughter's friend was like, "What's a cassette tape?"
"You don't know what a cassette tape is? You've never seen one?"
She shook her head, "I have never heard of that in my entire life."
 Then my daughter tried to explain to her what a cassette tape was. "Back in the olden days..."

The olden days? Holy crap!
                            
These children will never know the searing disappointment of forgetting to hit the "record" button on the cassette player when their favorite song comes on the radio. That's only for people who lived in the olden days, people who wore t-shirts from 1986.

The Cat

I have another man in my life. His name is Jeff and I love him. Look at this face. How could you not?
                                              
He is my boyfriend. I love him. I want to get a sling and carry him around in it. Like a crazy cat lady.
                                     
He's so funny because during the day he sleeps but at night he is on the prowl. We keep his food upstairs in the cat corner and the other night I heard  lot of rustling and noise. Jeff had scratched through the bag of cat food and was eating it. Had food in his bowl but decided that it was something he had to do.
                           
It was 2 in the morning. I dragged myself out of bed. Said "WTF" to the cat and moved the bag of food into the closet. The cat was pissed off. He just stood in front of the closet door.

I crawled back to bed and before long I was drifting into blissful sleep. Next thing I know I felt something warm near my eye. The cat had backed himself up on my face and was trying to put his gross cat anus in my eye. I sat up in bed and I shooed him away. He looked at me like, "Yeah. Next time you won't move my food. Will you?" My blood ran cold. The cat did it on purpose. To punish me. What a jack. I'm lucky that I didn't get toxoplasmosis of the eye.

The cat is smart. Way smarter than the dog. He can open doors somehow. I'll be in the bathroom and the door will open and he will strut in like he owns the place and will jump on my lap. He looks at me like, "Why'd you leave me?"
                                    
I need to do a better job of locking doors. The dog sits by the bathroom door too. I will never use the bathroom in peace ever.

Let's take a moment to admire Jeff's cuteness:
   
                                        
                                     Why are these humans taking pictures of me?

My REAL babies are doing well. Daylight's savings time has thrown us off. Last night my youngest went to bed earlier than usual but my 11 year old couldn't sleep. "Can I lay with you guys?"
She NEVER wants to lay with us. It was weird. "Okay." It was like 3 grown people in bed. "Can you sing to me?"
                           
She was regressing. I didn't care. I liked it. "What do you want me to sing? Twenty One Pilots or something?" What does one sing to a 6th grader at bedtime?
"No. That's Irish song you used to sing to us when we were little."
"Okay." She snuggled into me and I sang her a song. The cat meowed along. Mostly because he thought it was horrible and he was mocking me.

It was so nice to snuggle for a few minutes. She quickly came to her senses and went to bed alone. My 9 year old was up at 5:00 am and climbed into bed with us. Uggggh. She wanted to talk. I was like, "Just talk to the cat...."

I'll get more sleep tonight, I hope. That is IF I can keep both the kids out of my bed and the cat doesn't try to put his butt hole on me.

Morning Struggles

This morning was a serious struggle. I wanted to take my kids and be like:
                                         
My 9 year old thinks that I keep track of all of her sh*t. That is NOT my job. Every morning it's like, "Have you seen my shoes? Where is my jacket? Can you get my book?" No. I'm always in the middle of making breakfast or lunches, or feeding the dog. She thinks I should stop what I'm doing and find whatever she needs. It is maddening. You are almost 10 years old. Keep track of your own things.

This morning it was the wax for her braces. I was trying to get breakfast on the table and she walked in with her hands on her hips and asked, "Where is my wax?" Not in a nice, inquisitive way. In a rude, accusatory way.
"I don't know. When did you use it last?"
"Last night but I can't find it."
"Just eat and I'll look for it."
"NO. I'm not going to eat without it."
I looked for all the normal places it could be but it was nowhere to be found.

"I'm going to have to pick some up today," I told her.
Do you want to know what she said to me? She had the damn nerve to say, "You need to pick it up and drop it off to me at school." I laughed and laughed. "You're trippin. I have to do this little thing called working for a living."

She did not like that. She whined. I am pissed off though because they did leave too much wire sticking out. WTF? Don't I pay these people enough money to not have to deal with this? You had one job...

In the middle of this wax situation my 11 year old comes up to me and says, "Hey mom, you said I could get a second ear piercing and highlights when I turn twelve. Can I still?"
                           
"Yeah. Remember? You said I could."
"No. I didn't. I would remember something like that."
This kid's strategy is to tell me that I said she could do something in hopes that I'll actually believe her. No. It's not going to work.
"Yes. Besides, EVERYONE is getting a second piercing."
Really? Everyone? Well, in that case just do what everyone else does.....she's out of her mind.
"Guess what? I'm not everyone's mom and I say we're not doing that."

She started bitching, then this other one is still whining about the wax. I was about to lose it. They are too old to still be whining. I angrily tried to open the canister of coffee and coffee grinds spilled down my dress, into my bra, into my shoes, all over the floor. It was the icing on the cake.
                                 
"JUST GET IN THE CAR!!!!" I yelled. They did. My 9 year old magically found her wax after that. It's amazing how a mom freak out can motivate my children.

I cleaned up the coffee and make a cup. I poured it into my travel mug, turned to my husband and said, "Dear God! I might need something stronger than this to survive the day."

My 9 year old didn't talk to me on the car ride to school. When I dropped her off I said, "Have a good day." She gave me the look of death before slamming the car door shut.
                                     
Thanks, I love you too!

Working Out is Horrible

              
Last summer/ fall - I lost almost 20 pounds. I was counting calories and working out. I gained 5 pounds between going on a cruise and the holidays. Since then, I've been gaining and losing the same pound. About 3 weeks ago, I decided to get back on the bandwagon and loose that last 5 pounds.

I've been going to the gym pretty consistently. I f**cking hate it. I hate to work out, it's the worst thing but I do it anyway. I went to the gym today and entertained myself by watching all the people. There is always some skinny 15 year old boys trying to lift weights. Some middle-aged guy with huge muscles looking at himself in the mirror like, Yeah. I'm a sexy beast. Then there are good-looking 20 year old chicks with a bunch of makeup on in sports bras. Then there's me on the arc thinking to myself: I can't believe that I have to work this hard to not look good.
                                  
I have this weird knee fat that I cannot get rid of. I googled exercises that can help get rid of knee fat and it said that knee fat can develop with age. WTF? Then I linked to this article about how your body changes in your thirties - you muscle tone decreases, metabolism slows down. Blah, blah, blah....Holy shit! I might as well give up now.

Even though I think my body is gross, I am SUPER vigilant not to talk about it out loud - especially in front of my girls. I want them to love their bodies no matter what they look like and I can only do that by modeling similar behavior. Otherwise, I would have cashed out my 401K and gotten implants, liposuction and Botox years ago. I'm so vain that I probably think this blog is about me.

That doesn't stop my kids from criticizing my body though. Especially my oldest daughter. I was getting ready to go to the gym and she had the gall to tell me, "Ewwww, mom. You're boobs are so flat!"
             
"Maybe because I had you and your sister hanging off them for YEARS of my life. They did their job well. Haters gonna hate." I am will give it right back to her. We can't all be an 11 year old Jennifer Lopez. She is the worst.

Although, with her phone gone she's been much more engaged. She even volunteered to go to the grocery store with me today. She NEVER wants to go to the grocery store with me. I thought it was very suspect. DTK.
                            
We had a nice time. We listened to music and sang together. Some how I left the grocery store with a 6 pack of Starbucks, a scented candle, poptarts, colored pencils, mechanical pencils. This kid is a con artist.

I got home and unloaded everything. I mourned the fact that I couldn't eat anything. Don't feel bad for me though. For dinner I ate some shrimp wrapped in lettuce with some carrots on the side. Yum! Maybe my knees will be less fat in the morning.

DTK

The struggle is seriously real this week. I am at my whits end with these kids. The mornings have been especially horrible. My youngest has no sense of urgency whatsoever. You have to reminder of everything 8 times. I will wake her up at 5:30 am and she'll come sauntering in my bedroom half an hour later - not dressed to check the weather. She takes 40 minutes to put clothes on. What the hell? But if you tell her about it she turns into an insane person.
"Hey put on your shoes. We have to leave in 10 minutes."
                          
"I KNOW IT MOM. STOP STRESSING ME OUT."

The other day we had to leave and she was putting on her shoes in a manner that was so slow that my head was going to explode. She was having a nasty attitude. I was over it.

Then, the 11 year old comes downstairs with a smile on her face. "Good morning!" she said cheerfully. Her hair was styled pretty, she smelled good, she was wearing a skirt. She never wears a skirt. She looked at the clock. "It's 7 o'clock. We need to go right now, dad."
"We don't need go right now. Let me finish my coffee," he replied.
She whined, "But dad, I don't want to be late!"

We gave each other a knowing look. She's up to something. "Why do we need to leave so early?" he asked. "I need to go to band."
My husband rubbed his beard, "Who are you meeting in band?"
"No one." Her voice was high pitched.
"You're lying."
"I'm not lying! Why don't you believe me?"
He laughed. "I don't trust kids."
"That's right," I agreed.
She stomped her foot and rolled her eyes at me. "Uggggh. I hate you mom."
"Join the club."
My 9 year old piped in, "I'm the president of that club." She still didn't have her shoes on.

"I'll peek through the bad room window with binoculars to get to the bottom of things," my husband joked.
"The band room doesn't have windows."
"Well, I'll hide in a tuba case then. I'll say, "Don't talk to that boy" and they will be like, "Did that tuba just say something?"
"You guys are so stupid."

The skirt in itself was weird but not a huge red flag. Coupled with the insistence that we leave early and the vehement denial of being up to something definitely confirmed she was up to something. We call it DTK in this house. DON'T TRUST KIDS. It's not a motto or a philosophy. It is a lifestyle and religion.

I never did get to the bottom of it that day. But I am always on DTK high alert. You have to be with middle schoolers. As you remember, her phone was taken away. I just don't want her texting and using social media right now. I've let her use my phone and laptop to listen to music. The other day I caught her downloading a messenger on my laptop and she downloaded Kik on my cell phone. I was heated.
"Did you download Kik on my cellphone?"
She looked me straight in the eye and said, "No."
Really? Who did? The app installing fairy who wants to group chat with her friends? This kid must think I'm stupid. What a sneak.

It was in that moment that I recalled my parents telling me, "I hope you have a daughter just like you one day" when I was being a sneaky little twit. I recall thinking. "I hope I do, because I'm f**king awesome!"
                                         
I was such a HOLE. Now that the time is actually here I'm like, "Dear GOD! Please, please, please don't let my daughters be anything like me. Why did my parents wish this upon me?!?!?!" It's the circle of life or some bullsh*t.

"You're done. No electronics. No internet."
She cried. "What about listening to music?"
"You can listen to the radio."
"I don't like music on the radio."
"You can burn a CD."
She sobbed. "What?!?!"
"Yeah, you are gonna be living in the 90's for a few months."
We are going to be partying like it's 1999. For real.
"What if I need the internet for school?"
"We'll go to the library and use the encyclopedia."
DTK

I woke up this morning still pissed off about it. Then my 9 year old had to lay into me. I gave her $20 for the book fair and she was mad that I didn't give her $22. She was reaming me about it. She wanted me to materialize $2 out of thin air. How ungrateful. I only had a $20 bill, that was it. I'm not Harry Houdini. On top of that she was dragging her feet to get out to the car as usual.

We were in the front yard just screaming at each other. I was in my pajamas yelling like a damn crazy person. Our neighbor came out to take down his trash and just watched us in horror. Probably thought, "Why do I live next to this white trash family?"

I waved to him. "Just thank you're lucky stars that you don't have kids. Enjoy your life." I said that. I actually yelled it at him because that's where I was at mentally in the moment. He waved back and said, "Yeah, my wife is having a baby in 3 months."

                                  
I remember when my kids were little and we all liked each other. What happened? Who are these people? I remember when the kids were young and this friend of mine were talking about how horrible her kids were and I thought, Wow. That's not very nice. I will never say such horrible things about my children. We will always get along. They will be good people. You know what? I didn't know what the f**k I was talking about. I was a real a**hole.

I can hear my parents laughing right now thinking:
                   
I can't wait until my own children see that day. I am going to enjoy it and remind them DTK.

 

15 Years

                                          
My husband and I celebrated 15 years together yesterday. I've been thinking about it a lot this past month and wanted to do something special to mark the occasion. I decided that I wanted to re-create our first date. It was on March 1, 2001. We had been good friends for 8 months prior, high school friends. We worked together at Wawa. We'd been to dinner together many times, the movies, and the mall. But March 1, 2001 was different because I had just had an epiphany that I was in love with him. I was 17 and knew everything. We went to Red Lobster that night and on the way home he asked me if I wanted to be his girl friend, he kissed me and we've been tethered to each other ever since.

I made plans last week to farm out the children and take him to dinner at Red Lobster. I made a playlist of songs that were popular that week in 2001, the song that was playing when we had our first kiss, our song. I got dressed up and put on heels. When he got home from work I told him to get into the passengers seat and I hopped in the car. I put on my playlist.

My husband was very confused. "Where are we going? Where are the kids? What is happening right now?" I grinned. "The kids are fine. I made plans." He sat back and relaxed and I drove. Then he realized what was playing on the radio.
"Is this a remix?"
"Yeah. Do you remember why this song is important?"
"It was playing when we had our first kiss. I remember that night. You let me get to second base."
Wait! What?
"I don't think so. I think I would have remembered that."
"You definitely did. I remember. It was awesome." Fifteen years later, he was congratulating himself and thinking he's the man.
                                      
I'm a mom now and I was disturbed. "On our first date I let that happen? WTF? I hate myself. I thought I was a nice girl. I can't believe you took advantage of me like that."
He raised his eyebrows. "It was your idea so technically YOU took advantage of ME.... but I still love you." Well, he keeps it honest.

We pulled into the Red Lobster parking lot and he burst our laughing. "We are going to re-live our first date and reminisce." He was into it.

We walked in and waited to be seated. A couple came in with a 7 month old baby and sat across from us. The baby tried to crawl into the lobster tank. I leaned into him and whispered, "Aren't you glad that isn't us anymore?" His "Yes!" was resounding.

We sat down at the table and ordered. Our waitress was weird. She was slow or something. For instance, I was eating crab legs and I asked her if she could bring me some wet naps. She said, "We are actually out of them right now but I can bring you all the lemons that you want."
                                                
I failed to see how the lemons would help with my dirty hands. We talked out the past 15 years and all the good times we've had together. It was nice to just be the 2 of us for a little while. I felt like I was 17 again.

I feel that way sometimes for no reason at all. Like this weekend when we took our cardboard to the recycling center (that's married life shit right there). He had just shaved his head and was wearing a tee shirt and athletic shorts. We unloaded all of the cardboard and I was behind him as we walked back to the car. I watched him get back into the car with his broad shoulders and the curves of his biceps. The serious look on his handsome face. The butterflies hit me out of no where. I was like:
                                  
Or when he has a trip to DC and he comes to the breakfast table in a suit and tie, or when I see him with the kids. That's hot.

Last week he was laying in bed watching a movie and I laid down next to him and studied him. His eyes, his lips, his neck and hands. He didn't like it. "Stop being weird!"

I thought about how many times he'd kissed me with those lips in the past 15 years, the hands that he wrapped around my waist at his prom, the hands that caught our second daughter when she was born. Eyes that gazed upon me when I was 16 and 30, when I was fat and thin, before and after the crows feet and how he always thought that I was beautiful.

We've known each other for almost 16 years, we've been together for 15, and we'll be married 14 years in June. I was 18 and he was 19 when we married. Practically children. People have always been really fascinated by it. They ask a lot of questions. It's a novelty. I never understood it really until now. Maybe it's because I'm in my 30s or maybe it's because I'll have a daughter in high school in two in a half years. The thought that in six years she could possibly get married and move to the middle of the country makes my blood run cold.

The question that I've been asked the most often is how I knew that he was the One. How can someone know that when they are 17? I just did. I told him the day after we met that one day we would be married and have children. When I had the epiphany that I was in love with him while sitting in my bedroom on February 28, 2001, I knew that he would be the only one. I felt it so strongly in my core and in my gut that it was the truth of my life. It was like my future was clear in an instant. I had never been so sure of anything else in my short life.

After that night in March at Red Lobster, so many things changed for me. He became the air in my lungs, every thought was of him. It was painful to be separated from him. He made me feel alive. I've known him half my life. We've been together so long - literally my entire adulthood. We are extensions of each other, we are like trees who have deep roots intertwined with one another, often times I feel like we are one and the same. There is not one without the other.

Our lives together have FAR exceeded my expectations. We have been so blessed, so lucky. We are thankful for the people in our lives - friends and family who've supported our marriage, our beautiful children,  for this life that we've worked so hard to build together. I'm thankful for the years that we held on tight to each other as we braved some rough storms.

Our story might not be the most romantic, it's not flashy, it's not typical - but it's ours and that's what makes it my favorite.