The time I met your Papa.

You should know the story about where your two, kind of crazy but always in love with you, parents met. We were in Guatemala, it was the day before Christmas Eve. I ate lunch in the restaurant/bar where he was working and noticed him. Like, not like I wanted to jump all over him, but noticed him. Where he was, what he was doing, that he was looking at me. And then I went back, alone, that evening. It was weird for me to do that, but I think I sort of just knew. I went in on the pretext of just having a drink at the bar… but ended up chatting the night away with the handsome bartender with the crazy-long eyelashes. And then he gave me his number. He. Gave me. The number. And so unlike myself, I sent him a text message the next day. And now, since then, we have spoken every single day for 6 years. 

Our first actual date was on a Saturday morning. I know, sort of weird. But I got up early, went to the park where we were going to meet and grabbed coffee. We sat on that park bench with coffees and the newspapers like we had known each other forever. (In fact, we’d get married on that same park bench in the not too distant future.) We walked to some of the ruinas that dot the beautiful old city of Antigua, Guatemala. We walked and talked and explored. Then he invited me home– for lunch. We walked to the local market and there was something about this cargo-pants and flip-flop clad man, strolling through the market, bartering for exactly what he wanted and taking me home to cook lunch for us– and his friends and mine, that just sealed it. He cooked and a bunch of us sat on a patio with a view of the volcano, drinking Gallo beer and eating his food. It was magical and I was sold.

Your Papa and I got married before we actually knew each other and we’re still working on getting to know each other. But those eyelashes and that laid-back ease are what sucked me in then– and suck me back in now. When life is mundane. When arguments flare. When there are 2 babies in our bed separating us. We committed to each other and to the two of you. The biggest lesson I’ve learned from him and with him is to just keep showing up. That someone needs to forgive first, someone needs to say ok, let’s start fresh and someone needs to say “I love you.” We take turns showing up and thus far, while it’s not been perfect, it’s ours. Much like the two of you. 

Love, Mama

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