Right Hand (wo)Man

*Picture of Dora currently sitting on our driveway*

On March 1, 2003 I met Hubby.

I was 19 and he was 21.

I threatened to kill him if he didn't call me after he asked for my number.

Seriously.

"You can have my number, but if you don't call me, I will kill you."

Romantic.

The next day I told my best friend, "I'm going to marry that guy."

I wasn't kidding.

On March 4, 2003 we went on our first date.

He kissed my forehead while we sat on the beach after dinner and looked at the stars.

I was smitten.

He kissed my hand goodnight after he walked me to my door.

He even waited in his truck to make sure I got into my house safely.

On March 6, 2003 we went on our second date.

To Chuck E. Cheese's.

Because I wasn't old enough to go to Dave & Buster's like he wanted to.

We have a picture of us with Chuck somewhere.

The only photo of us with that mouse sans children.

We still have the tickets we won that night.

On March 8, 2003 we became an exclusive couple.

Two weeks later my mom's husband told her, "I think someone's falling in love..." after I giggled hearing the doorbell ring waiting for him to come pick me up.

We were serious.

Fast.

We even bought a puppy together.

On May 25, 2003 we were in Vegas for his 22nd birthday.

I surprised him with a weekend away and paid for it all with my hard earned tanning salon employee paycheck.

I was living the good life.

He asked me to elope.

I turned him down in fear of my parents killing me.

But not in the same "if you don't call me" kind of way.

On June 10, 2003 we found out we were pregnant.

We narrowly escaped death with that news.

On September 26, 2003 we got our first apartment and moved out of our parents' homes.

On January 17, 2004 we welcomed The Girl into our lives.

And became a family.

On March 8, 2004, after one year of dating and one year & one week after meeting, we were married.

Our witness was The Girl.

In her infant car seat.

At the courthouse.

On a Monday.

I even nursed The Girl 5 minutes after saying "I do!".

Not how I envisioned getting married.

But I didn't care.

All I wanted was Hubby by my side.

And I have been on his right side for the past 7 years.

I am his right hand woman.

And I have one trillion photos to prove it.

My love...

Seven years today.

We have been to hell and back together.

And you have held my hand every step of the way.

Well, besides the few steps when you shoved me along the path in the direction I needed to be.

Thank you for the pushes.

Thank you.

For holding my hand.

For never holding me back.

For allowing me to be young and crazy after praising me for being grounded and responsible.

For protecting me.

For always sticking up for me when people judge me by looks alone.

You have taught me so much.

For being an amazing father.

And supportive husband.

And starting and running your own business so that I can raise our children.

For knowing that "me" time can mean quiet time with a book or a weekend away with a friend.

For always making sure we have "we" time, too.

You are my rock.

My best friend.

My everything.

And now everyone knows our love story.

Because it doesn't matter where we've been or what we've done.

What matters is that we were there together.

And that in 50 years, I hope to still be holding your hand and seeing your smile.

You show me that you love me everyday.

Even if it means bringing me this when I ask for ketchup for my fries:

Happy anniversary, Papa.

I look forward to spending the rest of my life on your right hand side.

:)

Happy Monday, everyone.

(You can stop groaning at this mushy post now. Crafts are coming tomorrow.)