The Wedding-Part 2

So there I was, on the other side of the door, in a foul mood from having to share my wedding with strangers and the cold weather, and irritated at myself for not being able to feel a thing.

I put my hand on the door, opened it, felt the cold air on my face, heard "the song" playing, turned and saw my entire family, my children, Mr. Wonderful's family, all watching me, and I burst into tears. I was finally overcome with the emotions I should be feeling. I realized I couldn't see Mr. Wonderful, and every step from that realization to the altar was a desperate one, trying to get myself to the man I love and have my comfort and my joy and make him my husband.

I don't think I heard two words of the ceremony. I was completely in tune with him, I was watching him, watching him go through the emotions and try to hold it together. I handed my flowers to my daughter and saw for the first time my Dad on the computer screen via Skype, which was sitting in a chair next to my son. Yet another jolt of emotion.

Mr. Wonderful read his vows first. It was the only part of the ceremony I cared about, and he absolutely blew me away. He read off his promises one by one- to respect me, to protect me and the kids, to make me feel beautiful, that his love will only grow, to never abandon me and the kids....and then he read his promise to never betray me and to always be honest and loyal, and I totally lost it again. This one. The promise that had been made before yet was broken. The broken promise I thought would stop me from ever being here again, in this spot, marrying anyone. The one that un-did all the other promises. Yet looking into his eyes and knowing him...I knew Mr. Wonderful meant it and did not take it lightly. I knew it like I had never known anything before.

After he finished, it was my turn. I read through the vows, hoping to make the same impact on him that he made on me. I gave my promises to him one by one, opening myself up like I haven't since my divorce, and giving myself to him completely. It was beautiful.

During the entire ceremony I could hear our families crying. I was facing mine and could feel exactly what they were feeling. This family has watched me struggle and suffer and crawl through the trenches of pain and obstacles. They watched my former husband treat me poorly, then watched me take him back and be treated poorly again. They watched me find the confidence to finally leave him. They watched me cry and scream and fail at single motherhood, and then they watched as I was hit with the added blow of my father's brain tumor, and to try to get through all that came after, alone. They all at one point had tried to reassure me that everything would someday be ok, and here we all were...even my Dad, in a sense, and it was all ok. Better than ok. Not a happy ending, per say, but a happy beginning.

It was then time to face the children, and Mr. Wonderful took vows to them. He promised to take them as his own children, to protect them and guide and support them, and respect them all his life. They were so funny sitting there, trying so hard to be cool and not smile, but all three of them just couldn't contain it. They looked up at their new stepfather who has been a father to them for at least the past year already, and they were absolutely beaming from the inside out. My youngest even told me later she was about to cry, but not because she was sad, because she was so happy.

The minister announced us as husband and wife, we kissed and cried some more, and were then presented to our families with our united name. We literally danced down the aisle together to "You Make my Dreams Come True" by Hall and Oates, a song from a scene we loved in 500 Days of Summer...one of our first dates.

Back inside and alone, I just remember wrapping myself up in his arms with relief. I was handed more wine and it was all fun and happiness from there. We took some pictures together with the photographer, which I just got back...you can see the relief and happiness in both of our faces. We were just so damn happy. It felt as though everything was just as it should be, like it had all been leading up to this, from the time I met him up until that day and had come together as the universe had intended.

We dined with our families, listened to each and every one of them give a heartfelt speech, including each of our three kids. My favorite was my 4 year old "Sometimes, my mommy is rude but she's really lovable. And [Mr. Wonderful] is really cute and he tickles me and makes hearts on my back so I can go to sleep. So, cheers!"

My cute husband even went over to his laptop and requested to be my husband on Facebook. So even that night, it was FBO. Which we all know means it's real.

After dinner, a limo picked us up, and we went over to a private room at a karaoke bar with my brother, his wife, Mr. W's two brothers, and the photographer. Drunken singing and dancing on coffee tables ensued, and fabulous times were had by all.

The kids left with my mom and we spent the next week alone in San Fran for our honeymoon. There was much staring at rings and giggling and calling me his wife and him my husband. But mostly, it was just us...as we always are, enjoying our travels and especially each other. What we do best.

Perfection.

Love,
Mrs. Wonderful

The Wedding-Part 1

I am home, I am exhausted, but I am HAPPY.

The wedding was, well, everything I thought it would be and nothing I thought it would be.

We arrived on Thursday to San Francisco, three kids in tow. The idea was to have a short family vacation together while simultaneously tying up loose ends that needed to be done in SF. Things got off to a bit of a rough start. But would it be our wedding if we didn't have to WORK for what we wanted??? This is my life's theme!!!

First of all, we arrived to the airport at 6 am with three tired kids, and tried to check in under Mr. Wonderful's name, which didn't work. When we got up to a ticket agent, they informed us that American Airlines had screwed up and while they had *reserved* his ticket, they didn't actually *ticket* him. (Reminds me of the old Seinfeld episode - "so you know how to *TAKE* the reservation, you just don't know how to *HOLD* the reservation") After 30 minutes of the agent being on the phone with whoever, they sent the kids and I on through security, with the hopes that he would have a ticket by the time the plane left, but really more likely we'd be meeting up with him later in San Fran. Not a great plan considering we had an appointment to get our marriage license at SF City Hall at 1pm.

So I get through the security line and the TSA agent checking passports decides that the picture on my passport, the passport I have used 15+ times since I got it years ago, doesn't look real and makes me step aside with the kids while she calls her supervisor. They test it, they lecture me on the picture, and finally let me and the kids through. Have you ever been through airport security with three little kids? Alone? Everyone take your shoes off, put your Kindles, nanos, phones, laptops into the bin, your carryons on the belt, your jackets off, and don't lose your ticket and passports in the meantime. Walk through and then put it all back together and on again. "MOMMY I CAN'T GET MY SHOES ON! MOMMY WHERE IS MY JACKET! MOMMY I LOST MY PASSPORT!" I was so stressed about getting them all through that I barely noticed when the same TSA supervisor is standing in front of me asking if "this is your bag". Oh, yes, it is my bag. The one I stuffed with everything important to the wedding so if they lost our large bags we'd be ok- the gifts for the kids, the sand ceremony, the wedding rings. He pulls me over to the x-ray screen and the first thing I see when I look up-a pocketknife. The engraved pocketknife we chose to give our son for the wedding, with his name and the date, wrapped in a box with a bow. The one I told my mom a hundred times to PLEASE not forget to put in her suitcase on the way back so it wasn't taken away. I saw it on the screen and I realized that a) I was probably in big trouble and b) that pocketknife was not going to make it to the wedding, and that was huge part of the ceremony.

Let me tell you a little something about me. I am not one of those graceful people who handles stress well. And when you add in that an entire airport of people are looking at me and Mr. W is not there to bring me down to earth and my anxiety over him not making it is through the roof, well, it wasn't pretty. I freaked out, began to cry, began to hypervenilate. My poor 12 year old son had to try and calm me down. I was trying to explain to the TSA agent "My fiance...they didn't have a ticket....that's a wedding gift...for my son...for OUR wedding...now it can't...getting married this weekend...." A. Mess.

He had mercy on me, attempted to calm me down. Asked my son to watch the other two kids on the other side of security with their bags, while I went back to baggage check-in and could just pay to check the bag.

I am escorted by the agent back through security to the ticket line, where I see that Mr. Wonderful is STILL waiting on a ticket, with less than 30 minutes to take-off. I wait in line, get up to the counter, *try* to tearfully explain to the ticketing agent as well as Mr. W at the same time why I need to check my bag. The agent shakes his head at me, says it's too close to take-off and for security purposes, they can't check my bag. I am beyond flustered, so Mr. W steps over and explains to the agent who has now called over HIS supervisor, the situation...what the pocketknife is for and why we need it to get to SF. To which we are met with something like "9-11 was 10 years ago this weekend and we really don't care".

Touche.

So I have no choice but to race over to the AirMail station, stuff the gift tearfully into a bag, fill out the form (wrong, I later found out), and send it home.

Oh and did I mention, that as I am pulling the gift out of the carry-on, I see that one of the bags of sand for our sand ceremony has busted, and there is pink sand ALL. THROUGH. THE. SUITCASE.

I race back through security, shoes off, jacket off, laptop out, cel phone out. I look behind me and there is Mr. W doing the same. He catches up to me just as I'm putting my shoes back on and says "They're holding the plane door for us but we have to HURRY". I see the kids still sitting together on the other side of security. We may actually pull this off.

And then, like a bad deja vu dream, a TSA agent is AGAIN standing in front of me, asking if this is my bag. GOD WHAT NOW.

"Ma'am, there is some sort of substance all through your bag. We're gonna need to test it for explosives." I show her the vase, the bags of sand, explain to her it's SAND for a SAND ceremony and those are my three kids right there waiting for me and I'm getting married and WE CANNOT MISS THIS PLANE because WE HAVE A MARRIAGE LICENSE TO GET. She cares not, mentions 9-11 again. And I am forced to sit and wait while they perform the test.

By the time the testing is done, it is our scheduled departure time. We grab the kids. Run to the plane. Scramble for our boarding passes. Lectured by the agents at the gate. Greeted coldly by the flight attendants at the plane. Stared at furiously by the passengers as we make our way to our seats, which have been occupied be people who thought they had lucked out and could spread out. Even more pissed that they are being occupied by children.

Fuck 'em all, we made the flight, albeit without a gift for our child, and are on our way to San Francisco. No turning back now.

When we got there, we took the train from the airport and walked from the BART station to our hotel, which was all uphill. 3 kids + 2 huge suitcases + 3 carryons. Up SF hills. What a freaking joke.

We also made a day 1 mistake of walking the kids to City Hall, which was just a 15 minute walk from our hotel. Through TENDERLOIN. (beginners mistake). Luckily it was the middle of the day. We literally stepped over crackheads who were sprawled out in the middle of the sidewalk. At first I just thought "Oh, San Francisco, ha ha" and then the neighborhood got rougher, and rougher, and I became VERY aware of my designer bag and diamond ring and my kids who were dressed up more than usual for the trip in boots and hats and cute jackets. Aside from the sprawled out crackheads we passed people smoking marijuana, drug deals, lunatics ranting at random people, and human feces on the ground. At one point I heard a woman say, as she walked us walk by, "You guys are in the wrooong neighborhood". My daughter still asks me why I said to Mr. W "OH THANK GOD, NECKTIES" when we reached the City Hall area.

My mom and her husband met us there, where we scarfed lunch and had the first big moment of our trip...filling out the forms, taking our oath, seeing my new last name officially in print.

The next couple of days are a blur of "MOMMY WHEN ARE WE GONNA....WHERE ARE WE GONNA...WHY ARE WE GONNA....BUY ME ____! BUY ME ___!" The kids did have a great time, but three kids in the city using public transportation? Not exactly relaxing. But they loved the cable cars, loved Ghiradelli, loved Fisherman's Wharf and the sea lions, loved Sausalito and the Golden Gate bridge. We ate good food overlooking the bay, hunted for crabs under rocks, got them a primo seat on the Powell-Hyde cable car where they could hang on to the side standing up. There was actually minimal complaining, and the most priceless moment was when we stepped onto the pier in Fisherman's Wharf and my son saw Alcatraz for the first time, and exclaimed "I can't believe I'm really here!!"

Friday was a quick rehearsal and the first time I met my wedding planner and saw the wedding venue. The kids were restless and out of control through the rehearsal and I warned them "Guys, you are not going to be able to act like this during the ceremony. You will have to be still and quiet, like you're in church" to which my middle child exclaimed, in front of the minister, "MOM, that's why we don't GO to church!"

Friday night we gathered the entire family together, who had all come to town for the wedding, and had an amazing dinner at one of mine and Mr. W's favorite San Fran restaurants, Cha Cha Cha's. The sangria and tapas were aplenty. My sister-in-law presented me with a gift that she had coordinated with all of my friends, whom I was missing terribly and very sad they couldn't be there for my big day. It was an amazing night, happy tears were shed. I had been so distracted by the family vacation that it was easy to forget why we were there, and dinner was a great reminder.

The next morning I woke up early with the girls, my mom, and my future mother in law. I kissed Mr. Wonderful goodbye as my fiance for the last time. He was off to tour Alcatraz with the men and our son, the girls and I headed out to get our nails done near the wedding location.

After nails, the grandmothers took the girls into town for lunch, and I headed to the spa. I dropped them off in town and was alone in the cab, for the first time on the trip. The emotions hit me, hard, as I realized that NOW was the moment I had been waiting for for the past year. The planning and details and rehearsing and worrying was over now, it's all about us from here out.

I went into the spa with knots in my neck and back, stress knots I get from time to time. They were worse than they had been in years. My masseuse was amazing, magical, and by the time she finished I felt light as a feather. My facial was equally as perfect. I lunched alone in the spa, quietly reflecting on my life and how I got here.

I walked back to the room (located in the same place as the spa, and the location of the wedding ceremony and dinner). I took it all in, feeling relaxed and happy and ready. I found myself annoyed at the time it was taking me to get myself ready. I rushed through the details I thought would be so important...my hair, my makeup...I had searched for the perfect fake eyelashes to wear for the wedding, and didn't have the patience to get them on and decided not to mess with them. I just wanted to get married.

Family members, including the girls and my mom, slowly began arriving. The photographer was taking my picture. I began to feel the stress and no matter what I did, it would not subside. I got a phone call from Mr. W, who was ready and waiting at the ceremony site, saying that there was a problem and the hotel had booked a reception right next door to our wedding, and there would be people on the balcony with us while we got married. He was trying to handle it but I was furious. The weather had become cold and windy, and the venue was trying to talk us into moving indoors. It felt like it was all falling apart.

The photographer had the men walk over to the hotel room for our first photos. I was ready and was trying to let everything roll off my back. She arranged a "first look" photo, where he waited for me and I "snuck up" behind him for my big wedding dress reveal. I felt the tears but didn't let the emotion come yet. It was a nice moment, and we were both relieved to be with each other again. Through all stress and trials, we are each other's rocks, and everything felt ok again.

Photos went on and on, with family and then just us and the kids, Mr. W was getting more stressed about the time. We sent everyone on to the ceremony site to be seated, and we walked back with the photographer. I could see the other party going on upstairs, albeit indoors now and not on our balcony where we were getting married, and I was truthfully very annoyed.

We walked upstairs together, where the members of the other party were all standing, all staring at me. I glared at them. I admit it. They were ruining my moment. Luckily before I could get nasty, I was swept away by the wedding planner and ushered into a kitchen, where I would be sequestered until the ceremony began.

I was joined there by my sister in law. We fixed my hair, made sure my makeup was ok. I was trying to push myself from annoyed to happy. Instead, I was beginning to feel numb. My sister-in-law was trying her best to help me get back to happy, telling me to look around, take it all in. I tried, I really did. I was totally and completely numb. I was standing in a kitchen, someone had just handed me a glass of wine, and my wedding planner was asking me if I was ready. She left to begin the music and I was alone. "FEEL SOMETHING!" I urged myself. Maybe if I chug the wine.

Nope. Nothing.

She came back, pulled me to the door where I would make my entrance, I could see my youngest out through the window, dropping her petals on the ground with a shy smile. "Cute", I thought. But it was like watching tv. I still felt nothing. The wedding planner tells me she's going out to cue my music, and that as soon as I'm ready, to open the door and come out, and she will start it. I stand there, for I don't know how long, it must have been long because later Mr. W told me he was starting to worry that I had taken off.

And then, I put my hand on the door, and opened it up, still urging myself to FEEL, stepped onto the porch, and it was as if I had walked into another world.

(Part 2 coming soon!)

Reflection

I was driving home from an evening out alone tonight, fully refreshed and relaxed after what I can only describe as being a very stressful, harrowing few weeks. Making last minute decisions on menus and wine and picking up supplies and clothing and getting things tailored...plus sky high paperwork for the three kids starting school again. I've also had to get used to waking up at 6:30am again and making sure everyone is dressed, fed, and at one of their three schools. Soccer has started, dance has started, EVERYTHING HAS STARTED.

But tonight I did what I used to do best, I took myself out on a date. I needed a break. I needed not to hear people speaking to me for awhile, asking me questions, needing of me. I needed not to be running around getting things ready, finished, bought, packed, signed.

So it was with a clear head as I was driving home alone that I had the most overwhelming feeling of peace. I felt totally settled. I thought about my trainwreck of a life, just a few short years ago. Rock freaking bottom, the deepest levels ever imaginable.

And yet I met this man. And I never thought it would work. I never thought I could trust again. I never thought anyone would want this baggage, this situation. I had nothing left to give. And he loved me too, and for some reason it all worked, and I have a healthy, authentic, growing relationship for the first time in my life, and now we are 11 days away from marriage.

My children recovered, from it all. From their father moving out, to virtually losing their grandfather...they are thriving, they are happy, they love Mr. Wonderful, they even seem to still love me.

My business is the best it has ever been. I am working the exact amount I want, and making enough to be comfortable. I have time for my family, my future husband, my friends, and I am doing well.

My circle of friends is a small one, but a sacred, solid ring of trust. All toxicity has been alleviated. Last week I lost two friends (sisters) that I have had since I was a child, and after initially being very upset, I feel so relieved now. It was meant to be. I have learned to keep negativity, immaturity, and obsessiveness away from me. I have enough drama with my daughters. Grown people around me should bring support, encouragement, honesty and trustworthiness. Period.

I'm in total control of my body for the first time in my adult life. I keep myself healthy and strong, I have pushed myself to levels that I never thought I could reach, and on my wedding day I can say I have the body I have always wanted. I feel amazing, rested, and healthy.

My home has been transformed into a place I love, that I'm proud to bring guests to, that brings me great joy everyday.

I even sat with my father last weekend and had what is essentially the first two sided conversation we have had in 2 1/2 years. He has been unable to speak and suddenly is making great strides in his speech, and he was TALKING to us. You don't realize how vital speech and communication is to a relationship until it is taken away. Hearing his voice and his opinions and his jokes again after all this time...unbelievably beautiful.

I walked through the darkness for so long, blind, not knowing if I would ever find light. And now it shines so brightly and beautifully on me that I am overwhelmed with gratitude. I am not naive enough to think that more hard times won't be ahead. But with this struggle came strength and perspective that I would not have found otherwise, necessary to face anything. ANYTHING.

In the meantime I will bask in the glory of this awesome light that is shining on me right now. I am surrounded by love, by the exact people I want near me, doing exactly what I want to be doing.

And I will not deny myself that I had a hand in it. I made a lot of this happen through faith, hard work, and determination.

One month

So much to write about, as always, so little time.

First of all, if you were to ask me ANY year what month I despise the most, it is August. Poor little August, the last month before my favorite season and time of year. August brings endless paperwork and doctors visits and school supply trips and meet the teacher, times three kids. Add in the beginning of sports season, two soccer practices beginning and uniforms to be bought, a physical due for the oldest who is beginning athletics in middle school. School clothes shopping, haircuts, last weekday sleepovers with friends, last mornings of sleeping in, last trips to the pool.

So there's the mom perspective.

On another hand, August do-or-die time for my business. It's the last chance to get everything in order, get supplies, get caught up, make decisions, set a schedule before the busiest time of year begins for me.

So there's the business owner perspective. Which is usually where it is, and isn't that enough??

Then this year, I did something SUPER FUN and decided I could handle throwing a wedding right into the mix of all that. So yeah, that has been....interesting.

[ker-thunk]

In all seriousness, tomorrow marks 1 month til our wedding day in San Francisco, and we leave a month from yesterday. A month until what feels like the longest engagement of all time (only a year) is over. A month until my last name changes and the first time I will ever have a different last name from my kids. A month til I once again can claim a husband, can file taxes and check boxes as "married". A month til I once again commit myself til death do us part. This time, I know we *both* mean it.

I have absolutely no regrets. No fears. I am at total peace and other than wondering how it will all get done, I'm so happy that the day is finally arriving.

Even after spending the morning with my best friend finalizing her divorce, in the same courthouse and courtroom where I finalized my divorce so long ago, shaking from tears at the pain of it all, all over again. That experience traumatized me so deeply. I would rather die than stand up there before that smug judge all over again, crying my heart out and shaking uncontrollably as I pronounce to the legal system that my marriage is dead, and that it affects the three children I produced. No. Not doing it again. EVER.

And still, moving forward with confidence and peace. Mr. Wonderful and I may not have a perfect relationship. But we are stubborn as anyone I know in working towards getting it right. We'll never give up on each other. It's not going to be beautiful all the time, and we know that. But we know not to ever give up and to keep trying until it's back on track. That much I know.

As far as wedding plans, they're winding down. I still don't have flowers, or clothes for the kids (or Mr. Wonderful), and my dress was too big when I tried it on today. But the big details are coming together and it's going to be the most beautiful wedding, ever. And so meaningful.

A friend asked me a few days ago if it would really be all that different, being married, since we've lived together since June. Lord, yes!!! I haven't let my head go there yet...married...my husband...my new last name...vowing my commitment until my last breath...being stepdad....making the vow to the children...officially a family...

Yes, talk about a different life. I'm sure once we all get used to the new feeling and titles things will fall right back into this same groove we're in now, but is it different?

God yes.

Fitness of the Mental kind

For about the past 8 months, I have been focusing intensely on my overall physical health and fitness. I began blogging about my fitness journey and have made some pretty awesome changes. I feel better than I ever have in my entire life, including my teen years. For the most part, I have the body composition that I have always wanted. I feel like an athlete, I feel strong, I feel less stressed, I feel at my best, I feel in control.

While I'm still striving for goals in that area, I have felt for some time that it is time for me to shift my focus over to my mental and emotional fitness.

I have started to realize how much my perception of other people has to do with my own thoughts and feelings. I've started to realize how powerful my own thoughts are. Labeling someone is a human, flawed trait that we all have. Learning to see deeper takes work and patience.

Everyone is coming into a situation with their own background, emotional baggage, and perceptions. The thing I am working on that is very difficult for me, is to step back, not take things personally (really hard because I am SO SENSITIVE), and see from someone else's point of view. To sympathize with their feelings, to understand emotional reactions vs. rational thought, and to view them as a COMPLETE person. Not as a label.

We all have faults, we all have traits that could very simply place us in a "category". But to do so is dangerous. To do so is to then see every move that person makes as "controlling" "passive aggressive" "ex-hater" "slut" etc. etc., you get the point.

I really feel that getting away from labeling and to focus on sympathizing is one of the keys to true happiness.

It has done wonders for me in a short time in my relationships.

Another thing I've been working on is gratitude. Gratitude seems to be a big "thing" in pop culture lately, a product of the Oprah phenomenon. It has been preached to death in my opinion. I don't like the general attitude of the public that seems to shame people for having any negative feelings or emotions and "be grateful for what you have". To me, it is so important to process ALL feelings, good or bad. However...

Recording the things I am grateful for on a daily basis, privately where only I can see, has been an incredible exercise for me and my daily attitude. It doesn't eliminate emotions or hurt feelings, but it helps me keep focused and get through those times. It exercises my "happiness" muscle, even when I don't want to. My physical fitness training comes into play here...I know how to push myself to do something good for me, even when I don't feel like it, because I know the reward is worth the work.

I'll be continuing my journey to emotional health and being a better person and try to write about it here as much as possible. Surviving the struggles was one thing, becoming the best I can be is another, but worth working for.

Wedding Plans and an Attitude Adjustment

Less than two months to the wedding in San Francisco.

Yes. Yes that is correct. (I need CPR)

Wedding plans, however simple, are coming together. As much as I do not want to be bothered with details, there have to be a few. We're making our own playlist for the wedding and dinner and playing it on a portable ipod speaker. We've decided against a cake in SF, just for the reception back home, since the venue provides dessert along with dinner. His wedding ring just arrived, mine a few weeks ago. The reception invitations are being designed, addresses gathered.

This is really happening.

Mr. Wonderful has been living here for a few weeks now. Before he moved in, we had a conversation about how we both needed to be alert that through times of large transition, we do not do well. I have been having pretty stressful health issues that have required me to undergo a series of expensive tests, both of which scared the crap out of us both. Because I've been ill, I haven't been able to work or help, and I've been irritable. Mr. W has been supervising our house renovations, building a shed for the backyard and tiling the patio all by himself, as well as helping me with the kids and adjusting to a)being here all the time at the same time that b)the kids are home all day for summer. Add in a little pinch of wedding plans and a dash of exhaustion and you have a recipe for disaster.

We began bickering, and then I went into self-protection mode, which in turn caused him to do the same. And that is a no-win situation.

I began to retreat as I always do. Luckily, I have friends around me in the same situation...one in particular who advised me to call my therapist asap. I almost didn't. I almost just decided to run. I cannot even tell you where my mind goes when I go into this panic attack.

I sat down with my therapist and she refreshed me on everything I have learned. Do not categorize Mr. W. See him for HIM. Listen when he's upset or stressed. Do not instantly take it personally. Reflect on what he is saying. Stop "sticking up for yourself" and being defensive. Instead, be a loving partner to him so that he can in turn be the same to me.

Literally I was done with that session after a half hour. It brought me right back to where I know I need to be, I just lost sight of what is needed of me to make this relationship the success that it has always been, because I was too busy being terrified and scared and protecting myself.

I came home and things changed instantly. We have not bickered once since then, even after several situations where it could have gone down. Once I changed my attitude, his changed naturally. It's pretty mind-blowing how a simple adjustment can make such a big difference all around. We are no longer defensive of ourselves and instead working together to understand one another, the way it has been all along.

And I cannot wait to marry him and call him my husband once and for all.

Big. Huge. Sigh. Of. Relief.

A Father

Two years ago next month, I met a hot guy at a concert event where I felt a little too old and too worn to be socializing. Most everyone there was twenty-something, and I was only 32 but had lived enough life experience to feel at least 30 years older than that. I had three small children staying at my ex-husband's that weekend, and about 3 miles away, my father was in the hospital fighting for his life after a brain tumor surgery had almost destroyed him. I was there at the concert straight from the hospital, where I had held my father's hand and cried next to his bed. The concert was my escape and I just wanted to forget who I was and the life I was living at the moment.

When I struck up a conversation with the hot guy, and he explained to me his current situation of living overseas, I realized I had a connection with him, that neither of us had it easy and he, too, was wise beyond his years in a way that only experience can give you.

I asked how old he was, he answered "27" and I giggled to myself. He asked about my living situation and I approached the uncomfortable moment I always had when I met guys-but I could tell he could handle it, so I told him about my kids. All three of them. And he didn't run, which I already expected just in the short time of speaking with him, but he also asked their names and memorized them and asked me all about them. If you had told me at that moment that I was looking into the face of the man who would someday be the stepfather to those three kids, I would love to say that I would be surprised, but something inside of me that day just *knew*, although it would take me forever to admit that. He had such a kindness and gentleness to him, he made me feel safe, like I could tell him anything, on day 1.

Last week Mr. Wonderful took the kids and I to Mexico on a "Familymoon", and it was what turned out to be the epitome of everything this relationship has become. He carefully balanced his time between throwing the kids into the swimming pool, jumping waves with them, taking them out on kayaks, making sure each and every day that each child got individual attention. He also took the time to relax with me on the beach and made sure we had time alone. Everyone came home happy, connected, relaxed, and ready to move forward.

I was fully prepared, before I met Mr. Wonderful, to be a single mother for a very long time. I was worn thin by trying to survive, and I hoped every single day that someday my kids could forgive me for not being able to do it all, for any needs they had that might have to go unmet, for the exhaustion and the messy home and lack of money and free time. Even if I did meet someone, I didn't want to bring anyone new into their lives, and I was prepared to have a separate love life if need be.

It took me almost a year to introduce the kids to him, and so much angst and analyzing and therapy went into that decision. It was a huge gamble that I wasn't quite honestly sure would ever pay off.

So when I see him loving them the way he loves me-catering to their individual needs, thinking decisions through with such patience and love, putting himself second to them after a lifetime of only having to think of himself...it humbles me. I don't know that if I were in the same situation reversed that I would have what it takes to do the same. To give up any chance of having my own biological children in place of loving and sharing three with two other parents, and constantly being looked at and acknowledged by the outside world as "just the step-parent".

A few months ago, Mr. Wonderful visited an attorney to find out what rights he will have as a stepfather. In short, he will have virtually none. If anything were ever to happen to me, he has a very high possibility of losing the three children that he loves more than anything, and would be at the mercy of my ex husband. My 4 year old, who he will have known since she was in diapers and calls him T-Daddy, my middle daughter, who screeches with laughter and giggling everytime he is around, and my son, who idolizes his future stepfather. The thought of any of them losing that relationship makes me want to sob, and I have promised him I will take care of myself so that he never has to worry about that. It's enough to make someone want to start a movement for step-parent rights.

Because what I have learned that I don't know that I believed before, is that it is possible for a person to come into an established family and make it his own. I believe that Mr. Wonderful is a better father to his step-children than most men are to their biological kids.

I look at the path they were on before they met him, and compare it to the path they are on now, and I believe they will owe a future of success and happiness to him coming into their lives.

They will know what a happy and healthy marriage is supposed to look like. I see my 8 year old daughter watching us with awe. She never saw her father love her mother, or treat her mother with care and love. She will have the perfect model of a man to look for when it is her time.

All three will have his support, his ear, his understanding, his quiet, caring discipline, and his un-dying adoration. They are truly so lucky, as am I.

This year he will have his first real Father's Day, and I cannot say enough to him about the praise and adoration I have for a man who has brought so much happiness into the lives of my children, of OUR children, and no gift or card or sentence could ever do justice to the thanks I have in my heart for what he does for this family each and every moment of the day.

Happy Father's Day, "Mr. Wonderful". You deserve it more than anyone I know.