This weekend marked Sebastian's first foray into organized athletics. Well, as organized as five and six year olds can be while playing soccer, anyway. He and Lillian play on the same team, but she played last season as well.
The game ended in a tie, but that really isn't the point here, is it? The point is that for a kid who is slender and quite strong, Sebastian looks terribly uncoordinated when he runs. Throughout the game, he appeared to be limping, but when we asked him afterwards, he said his shoes fit just fine and that he wasn't at all hurt. It was as if he just doesn't know how to run.
Earlier in the week at practice, the coaches had the kids running sprints. I wasn't surprised to see Lillian pulling up the rear, but what shocked me is that Sebastian was right there with her each time. We had assumed that maybe he was waiting for her. The two have been inseparable since the day he was born, so it would make sense. He won't even go play outside unless Lillian is willing to go too.
But in the game, Sebastian was slow as well. It wasn't that he wasn't trying (he actually appeared to be giving it his all), but he just couldn't keep up with the other kids on the field. Part of this, I'm sure, can be chalked up to not really understanding what it was that he was supposed to do. Uncertainty will cause any athlete to play slower than he should. But I worry that the larger part is that for whatever reason, maybe speed just isn't something he's blessed with. Like I said, he's strong and he's adventurous. There's not a swingset he can't climb and swing from like an ape. And he's not at all stocky. In fact, you'd be hard pressed to find an ounce of fat on him. Knowing this, I had just assumed he'd be faster.
Now, obviously the key here really should be that they kids were out there running around and having fun. I know this. I'm not one of those dads that will be demanding my kid play better. Sports, especially at this age, are supposed to be fun and by all accounts both he and Lillian had fun. But I also have an eye on their futures in sports. What baseball-loving dad doesn't?
Unfortunately for him, speed is something I'd have a lot of trouble giving him pointers with, so hopefully he takes a liking to pitching. Pitchers don't generally need to be all that fast anyway. Maybe neither of my boys will turn out to love baseball as I have. That's okay. The world needs doctors and engineers and scientists a lot more than it needs ballplayers, anyway. So long as they become good people, I'll be happy.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Those Vows You Spoke are Supposed to Mean Something
I saw a tweet today that made me think. And it made me sad. The tweet said "I swear driving away is the hardest thing I do. Daddy loves you." Now, I don't know the context here, nor do I know why this person would tweet this thought to the masses instead of simply telling his children these words. It could be that this "Daddy" is a salesman or a truck driver or does something else that requires he leaves his family to travel to earn his living. It could be that he counts down the hours until he gets home. I'd like to think that's the case. It's sad that a family should have to be split up that way, but it happens if that's the only job the guy can get.
The other possibility is that the tweeter is a divorced father, or maybe he and the mother were never married. Either way, those two are no longer together. The kids live with their mom and the father sees them sparingly, like every other weekend or something like that. This doesn't make me sad for the father so much as it does for the kids. This, maybe much more so that the first scenario, is avoidable.
I understand that we aren't always thinking about the consequences of our actions. Sometimes we do things and maybe we get away with it. Maybe you went out last weekend and had a few too many and then you decided you were okay and drove yourself home. It seemed like a good idea at the time. You made it home without getting caught and without hitting anyone or anything. You got away with it. The next day maybe you realize how dumb you were to try something like that and hopefully you learn a harmless lesson.
Other times, we don't get away with it and then it's time to own your actions and take responsibility for the situation. If you are married, you are making a lifelong commitment to that person. This is something that far too many people take far too lightly. Those vows that you recite, those aren't just words. They mean something. They say that for better or for worse, no matter the scenario, through thick and thin, you will stand by your partner's side. It's a commitment to honor, to love, and to cherish. And to do so for as long as you both shall live.
The divorce rate in this country is sky high. I don't know the precise number, but I believe it's north of fifty percent. We live in a modern world that puts instant gratification at our fingertips. If something is difficult, we generally give up quickly and find something else to do. The problem is that there is no real happiness in jumping from one quick and easy thing to the next; the only true gratification comes from seeing a difficult process through to the end. Marriage is difficult, fatherhood is difficult, but there will be no happiness is giving up and moving on.
Look, I understand that there are extreme cases where a partner is abusive to another or to the children, where for safety's sake, a marriage must end. But you cannot tell me that this alone accounts for the failure rate of marriages in this country. I am not some holy roller who thinks you'll go to hell for getting a divorce, but I do believe that when you give someone your word, you should do everything possible to honor that commitment. As strongly as I believe in marriage, I feel much more strongly that as soon as kids are involved, the stakes are raised significantly.
Now, I assume most of you are thinking that I grew up in some perfect household with a mom and a dad that never fought, with two siblings, with a dog, and a white picket fence.That's far from the truth. My parents were divorced when I was four years old and I spent the rest of my childhood visiting my dad on Tuesday evenings and then spending the night with him on Friday. I saw him much more often that that, though, as he lived just down the road from me for the majority of my childhood. I honestly don't know the reasons that my parents' marriage ended. I've never asked and don't intend to. My dad was always there and my mom did a tremendous job with my two sisters and I. I was young enough when it happened that I actually don't remember a time where my parents lived together. I suppose that made it easier for me. I know it was a lot harder on my older sister.
Now that I am married with kids of my own, I'm learning so much about myself and about my belief system. Things I thought were important before generally don't mean all that much to me now. Likewise, things I never gave thought to before have become quite meaningful these days.
I didn't get married until I was 30 years old. I married a woman who had two very young children from her first marriage. I was set up for failure. I had no idea how to put the needs of others before my own; I had never had to do that before. I had no idea how to raise a child, especially a 2 year old boy that I had just met.
More than anything I think, I learned what it means to be a father by seeing how my wife's ex-husband has handled things. I see the way he disappoints the kids by not showing up when he says he will, by telling them he'll keep them overnight only to bring them home two hours later so he can go out with his drinking buddies. I see the looks on their faces on Saturday afternoon, when their bio-dad had told them he'd pick them up first thing that morning, and they realize he's not coming. I learned that actions, and words, mean something and they have consequences. Unfortunately, it's the kids that suffer those consequences in this case.
Like I said, I'm not saying there is never a reason to end a marriage. What I'm saying is that there are ways to avoid getting to that point. It comes from both partners and has to be done together and always. First, don't abuse your partner or the kids. I shouldn't have to say that, should I? Secondly, don't cheat on your spouse. Thirdly, understand that you and your spouse will argue, you will fight, and you will get angry. Don't immediately assume that the other one hates you and don't do something stupid that escalates the situation.
You and your wife have a big fight and you leave the house. You decide you'll get back at her by heading to the bar. Two hours later you wind up cheating on her. Now the marriage is in big, big trouble because you felt the selfish need to get even. Three years later, there's some other guy tucking your kids into bed, some other guy they're calling "dad" and your left tweeting about how hard it is to drive away. Tell me, was it worth it?
It's about honoring your spouse, about putting the needs of others before yours, and about having the courage to stick it out and see it through. More than that, more than anything, it's about never putting yourself into a position to have to drive away and allow someone else to raise your children.
The other possibility is that the tweeter is a divorced father, or maybe he and the mother were never married. Either way, those two are no longer together. The kids live with their mom and the father sees them sparingly, like every other weekend or something like that. This doesn't make me sad for the father so much as it does for the kids. This, maybe much more so that the first scenario, is avoidable.
I understand that we aren't always thinking about the consequences of our actions. Sometimes we do things and maybe we get away with it. Maybe you went out last weekend and had a few too many and then you decided you were okay and drove yourself home. It seemed like a good idea at the time. You made it home without getting caught and without hitting anyone or anything. You got away with it. The next day maybe you realize how dumb you were to try something like that and hopefully you learn a harmless lesson.
Other times, we don't get away with it and then it's time to own your actions and take responsibility for the situation. If you are married, you are making a lifelong commitment to that person. This is something that far too many people take far too lightly. Those vows that you recite, those aren't just words. They mean something. They say that for better or for worse, no matter the scenario, through thick and thin, you will stand by your partner's side. It's a commitment to honor, to love, and to cherish. And to do so for as long as you both shall live.
The divorce rate in this country is sky high. I don't know the precise number, but I believe it's north of fifty percent. We live in a modern world that puts instant gratification at our fingertips. If something is difficult, we generally give up quickly and find something else to do. The problem is that there is no real happiness in jumping from one quick and easy thing to the next; the only true gratification comes from seeing a difficult process through to the end. Marriage is difficult, fatherhood is difficult, but there will be no happiness is giving up and moving on.
Look, I understand that there are extreme cases where a partner is abusive to another or to the children, where for safety's sake, a marriage must end. But you cannot tell me that this alone accounts for the failure rate of marriages in this country. I am not some holy roller who thinks you'll go to hell for getting a divorce, but I do believe that when you give someone your word, you should do everything possible to honor that commitment. As strongly as I believe in marriage, I feel much more strongly that as soon as kids are involved, the stakes are raised significantly.
Now, I assume most of you are thinking that I grew up in some perfect household with a mom and a dad that never fought, with two siblings, with a dog, and a white picket fence.That's far from the truth. My parents were divorced when I was four years old and I spent the rest of my childhood visiting my dad on Tuesday evenings and then spending the night with him on Friday. I saw him much more often that that, though, as he lived just down the road from me for the majority of my childhood. I honestly don't know the reasons that my parents' marriage ended. I've never asked and don't intend to. My dad was always there and my mom did a tremendous job with my two sisters and I. I was young enough when it happened that I actually don't remember a time where my parents lived together. I suppose that made it easier for me. I know it was a lot harder on my older sister.
Now that I am married with kids of my own, I'm learning so much about myself and about my belief system. Things I thought were important before generally don't mean all that much to me now. Likewise, things I never gave thought to before have become quite meaningful these days.
I didn't get married until I was 30 years old. I married a woman who had two very young children from her first marriage. I was set up for failure. I had no idea how to put the needs of others before my own; I had never had to do that before. I had no idea how to raise a child, especially a 2 year old boy that I had just met.
More than anything I think, I learned what it means to be a father by seeing how my wife's ex-husband has handled things. I see the way he disappoints the kids by not showing up when he says he will, by telling them he'll keep them overnight only to bring them home two hours later so he can go out with his drinking buddies. I see the looks on their faces on Saturday afternoon, when their bio-dad had told them he'd pick them up first thing that morning, and they realize he's not coming. I learned that actions, and words, mean something and they have consequences. Unfortunately, it's the kids that suffer those consequences in this case.
Like I said, I'm not saying there is never a reason to end a marriage. What I'm saying is that there are ways to avoid getting to that point. It comes from both partners and has to be done together and always. First, don't abuse your partner or the kids. I shouldn't have to say that, should I? Secondly, don't cheat on your spouse. Thirdly, understand that you and your spouse will argue, you will fight, and you will get angry. Don't immediately assume that the other one hates you and don't do something stupid that escalates the situation.
You and your wife have a big fight and you leave the house. You decide you'll get back at her by heading to the bar. Two hours later you wind up cheating on her. Now the marriage is in big, big trouble because you felt the selfish need to get even. Three years later, there's some other guy tucking your kids into bed, some other guy they're calling "dad" and your left tweeting about how hard it is to drive away. Tell me, was it worth it?
It's about honoring your spouse, about putting the needs of others before yours, and about having the courage to stick it out and see it through. More than that, more than anything, it's about never putting yourself into a position to have to drive away and allow someone else to raise your children.
Monday, August 15, 2011
The Story of Us
So I'm sitting at work perusing my twitter feed and the customer lounge in the next room has some show on the TV. I'm not sure what it is, but it's like Entertainment Tonight or TMZ or something that deals only with the lives of celebrities. So garbage, basically. Anyhow, the big news of the day is that actress Tara Reid (who was sooo hot in Van Wilder) reportedly got engaged and married all in the same day. And apparently she wasn't even drunk in Vegas when this happened.
Now, I don't give a rat's ass what Tara Reid has chosen to do with her life, so this post has nothing to do with her (but it does make me wan to watch Van Wilder again - tremendous film). Since the intent, or at least a large part of the intent, of this blog is to give my kids a place to get to know me and my inner-most thoughts, I think the Reid marriage gives me a good enough excuse to tell the story of my wife and I.
This is a long and complicated story, but whose marriage isn't? Ours is a story unlike anyone's I ever heard though. Stay with me, I think you'll enjoy...
I first met Valerie several months after my then-fiance (Jenn) and I moved back to Lima from Bowling Green. Jenn had taken a job at a laboratory doing pharmaceutical research. It was there that she met Valerie and the two became good friends. On occasion, Jenn and I would visit the local bars and one such evening we were joined by Valerie and her husband. I remember seeing her for the first time; she wasn't especially tall, but carried herself in a way that made her look taller than her 5'8" frame. She walked with a confidence about her. She had the most amazing eyes I've ever seen, a pure blue that can't be re-created by crayola. I liked her immediately. She was amazingly alluring, she was sexy. (Sorry kids, but there is no other way to put it)
Fast forward about a year. Valerie's marriage had long since ended and she had been dating a few people. Jenn and I would talk and I remember telling her how Valerie was better than this new guy or that one. I didn't see her often and no, there was never anything going on between us, but Valerie was someone I did like. I can't say the same for some of Jenn's other friends.
It was late January of 2008 when Jenn left the house on a Friday afternoon. She was driving back home to her parent's house for the weekend, or at least that's what she had told me. This wasn't all that unusual. I was watching Top Gun on AMC that night when my phone rang. It was my cousin, who asked if Jenn was home. I told him she wasn't, that she had gone back to Canton for the weekend. "No she didn't, dude" he said "she's at the movies with some guy and a 12-year-old kid." My heart immediately went to my throat.
I called Jenn, no answer. I texted her, she responded that she couldn't talk. I called again, finally she answered. I told her what my cousin had said, sure (or at least desperately hoping) that he was mistaken; that it wasn't Jenn he had seen. She laughed a bit, but said she had to go. She was at the movies, she told me, but in Canton, with her friend Terri. I asked what she was seeing (I have no idea why I asked this, but I did). Her response: National Treasure 2. I told her to have fun and we hung up. But something didn't sit right.
I racked my brain. Why would she go see National Treasure Two? A sequel to a movie that (to my knowledge) she had never seen? It didn't make sense. A Disney film? A sequel? Even for her, that wouldn't be one you would make a trip to a theater to see, especially if you'd never seen the first one. You would only do this if you were with a child that had seen the first one. This would be an excellent film to take a kid to see. Now I was fairly sure that my cousin had been right, but what to do?
I wound up doing the only thing I could think of in my panic. Five minutes before, my life was good, now with one phone call from my cousin, my whole world was shattered. I called Valerie. I had never even spoken with her on the phone before. I was a mess as I explained what was happening. She couldn't tell me anything, of course, even if she knew. She was Jenn's friend, not mine. I knew that, but I didn't know what else to do. She stayed on the phone with me for a long time, eventually she broke and told me I should go to the theater.
I caught my fiance coming out of the movies with another man and his child. I confronted her in the parking lot. She returned home that night, but things were very much over at that point. I wasn't sure I wanted to try to fix things, but she was sure she really liked this guy, a divorced 37-year-old Marine.
Two days later, I spent an evening with Valerie (with Jenn's blessing). From that day forward, Valerie and I spent almost every day together. It wasn't long before Valentine's Day rolled around. Jenn even went with Valerie to pick out a gift for me. By the end of February, we were very much in love. As it turns out, we were also very much pregnant. To me, there was no choice to be made here. I was in love with this woman like I've never imagined love could be. I had been with Jenn for seven years and to be honest, the last five of those were more for comfort than anything else. I would learn later that Jenn had been seeing other men for the entirety of our relationship, but that didn't matter anymore. I had found the one I was supposed to be with. The pregnancy sped up the process, to be sure, but Valerie and I were of the same mind and same heart on this one. We went together and picked out our rings in mid-March. On April 4, 2008, we were married.
There have been more than a few bumps in the road from that day to this one, but each time we've struggled, we've grown closer together. That pregnancy turned out to be our son, Leyton. At our 20 week ultrasound, we were told that Leyton (who hadn't been named yet) had gastroschisis, which is a birth defect that causes the intestines to push through an unclosed hole in the umbilical cord. The next few months were filled with stress of not knowing whether or not our child would live, let alone what his condition might mean. We had weekly trips to Columbus for ultrasounds and my relationship with Valerie was strained at best. The fact is that were really didn't know each other when we got married, so that compounded with the normal pregnancy issues and the stress of this diagnosis made life hell. There was also, of course, the fact that Valerie's first marriage had produced two small children and I was having to adapt to being a dad for the first time, and without a chance to really get to know the kids, either.
I can't tell you whether or not Valerie and I would have made it without Leyton. I lean towards no. When he was born on October 9 of that year, he had to spend 24 days in Children's Hospital waiting for, then undergoing, then recovering from surgery. In that time, Valerie and I lived in the Ronald McDonald House across the street from the hospital. I drove almost two hours each way to work and back every day. Our room, like all those at RMH, had no television, so the time we spend there was in isolation, by and large. We were forced, thanks to Leyton, to get to know each other like we never had before.
Leyton's conception was at least in part responsible for the timing of our marriage. Leyton's defect, which was successfully corrected with no further issues at all, was very much responsible for our truly falling in love with each other.
Valerie and I have now been married over three years. I can't recall a time, without trying, that we were ever apart. She and I share a trust that I have never known before and she puts up with most of my abrasiveness as well. There have been other trying times along the way, but nothing like what we went through over the last 16 weeks of her pregnancy with Leyton. During that time, there was more than one day that I wondered if we would make it at all, let alone still be together three years later.
17 months ago, Valerie and I welcomed Amity to the mix and the family seems complete. Of course, you never know what might happen if you're not actively NOT trying to get pregnant again.
Nothing that happened with Jenn was what I had wanted, but it all added up to me meeting Valerie. Nothing that happened with Leyton's diagnosis was what anyone would want, but it lead to the strengthening of my marriage. It's funny how life throws you things that seem so terrible at first. I don't know how much I might have believed this before all the above took place, but I can say for certain right now that everything truly must happen for a reason. And I am so glad that everything that happened, happened exactly the way it did. I wouldn't have changed it for the world.
On our three-year anniversary, Valerie posted the following on her facebook status: "I'd like to tell you that three years ago today I married my best friend, but in reality, three years ago today I married a stranger who became my best friend." I don't think I'd be very happy at all if one of my kids winds up doing something as stupid as Valerie and I did, but who's to say it wouldn't work? It has been one strange trip, but the journey to here has been incredible. I might just be the luckiest man alive.
Now, I don't give a rat's ass what Tara Reid has chosen to do with her life, so this post has nothing to do with her (but it does make me wan to watch Van Wilder again - tremendous film). Since the intent, or at least a large part of the intent, of this blog is to give my kids a place to get to know me and my inner-most thoughts, I think the Reid marriage gives me a good enough excuse to tell the story of my wife and I.
This is a long and complicated story, but whose marriage isn't? Ours is a story unlike anyone's I ever heard though. Stay with me, I think you'll enjoy...
I first met Valerie several months after my then-fiance (Jenn) and I moved back to Lima from Bowling Green. Jenn had taken a job at a laboratory doing pharmaceutical research. It was there that she met Valerie and the two became good friends. On occasion, Jenn and I would visit the local bars and one such evening we were joined by Valerie and her husband. I remember seeing her for the first time; she wasn't especially tall, but carried herself in a way that made her look taller than her 5'8" frame. She walked with a confidence about her. She had the most amazing eyes I've ever seen, a pure blue that can't be re-created by crayola. I liked her immediately. She was amazingly alluring, she was sexy. (Sorry kids, but there is no other way to put it)
Fast forward about a year. Valerie's marriage had long since ended and she had been dating a few people. Jenn and I would talk and I remember telling her how Valerie was better than this new guy or that one. I didn't see her often and no, there was never anything going on between us, but Valerie was someone I did like. I can't say the same for some of Jenn's other friends.
It was late January of 2008 when Jenn left the house on a Friday afternoon. She was driving back home to her parent's house for the weekend, or at least that's what she had told me. This wasn't all that unusual. I was watching Top Gun on AMC that night when my phone rang. It was my cousin, who asked if Jenn was home. I told him she wasn't, that she had gone back to Canton for the weekend. "No she didn't, dude" he said "she's at the movies with some guy and a 12-year-old kid." My heart immediately went to my throat.
I called Jenn, no answer. I texted her, she responded that she couldn't talk. I called again, finally she answered. I told her what my cousin had said, sure (or at least desperately hoping) that he was mistaken; that it wasn't Jenn he had seen. She laughed a bit, but said she had to go. She was at the movies, she told me, but in Canton, with her friend Terri. I asked what she was seeing (I have no idea why I asked this, but I did). Her response: National Treasure 2. I told her to have fun and we hung up. But something didn't sit right.
I racked my brain. Why would she go see National Treasure Two? A sequel to a movie that (to my knowledge) she had never seen? It didn't make sense. A Disney film? A sequel? Even for her, that wouldn't be one you would make a trip to a theater to see, especially if you'd never seen the first one. You would only do this if you were with a child that had seen the first one. This would be an excellent film to take a kid to see. Now I was fairly sure that my cousin had been right, but what to do?
I wound up doing the only thing I could think of in my panic. Five minutes before, my life was good, now with one phone call from my cousin, my whole world was shattered. I called Valerie. I had never even spoken with her on the phone before. I was a mess as I explained what was happening. She couldn't tell me anything, of course, even if she knew. She was Jenn's friend, not mine. I knew that, but I didn't know what else to do. She stayed on the phone with me for a long time, eventually she broke and told me I should go to the theater.
I caught my fiance coming out of the movies with another man and his child. I confronted her in the parking lot. She returned home that night, but things were very much over at that point. I wasn't sure I wanted to try to fix things, but she was sure she really liked this guy, a divorced 37-year-old Marine.
Two days later, I spent an evening with Valerie (with Jenn's blessing). From that day forward, Valerie and I spent almost every day together. It wasn't long before Valentine's Day rolled around. Jenn even went with Valerie to pick out a gift for me. By the end of February, we were very much in love. As it turns out, we were also very much pregnant. To me, there was no choice to be made here. I was in love with this woman like I've never imagined love could be. I had been with Jenn for seven years and to be honest, the last five of those were more for comfort than anything else. I would learn later that Jenn had been seeing other men for the entirety of our relationship, but that didn't matter anymore. I had found the one I was supposed to be with. The pregnancy sped up the process, to be sure, but Valerie and I were of the same mind and same heart on this one. We went together and picked out our rings in mid-March. On April 4, 2008, we were married.
There have been more than a few bumps in the road from that day to this one, but each time we've struggled, we've grown closer together. That pregnancy turned out to be our son, Leyton. At our 20 week ultrasound, we were told that Leyton (who hadn't been named yet) had gastroschisis, which is a birth defect that causes the intestines to push through an unclosed hole in the umbilical cord. The next few months were filled with stress of not knowing whether or not our child would live, let alone what his condition might mean. We had weekly trips to Columbus for ultrasounds and my relationship with Valerie was strained at best. The fact is that were really didn't know each other when we got married, so that compounded with the normal pregnancy issues and the stress of this diagnosis made life hell. There was also, of course, the fact that Valerie's first marriage had produced two small children and I was having to adapt to being a dad for the first time, and without a chance to really get to know the kids, either.
I can't tell you whether or not Valerie and I would have made it without Leyton. I lean towards no. When he was born on October 9 of that year, he had to spend 24 days in Children's Hospital waiting for, then undergoing, then recovering from surgery. In that time, Valerie and I lived in the Ronald McDonald House across the street from the hospital. I drove almost two hours each way to work and back every day. Our room, like all those at RMH, had no television, so the time we spend there was in isolation, by and large. We were forced, thanks to Leyton, to get to know each other like we never had before.
Leyton's conception was at least in part responsible for the timing of our marriage. Leyton's defect, which was successfully corrected with no further issues at all, was very much responsible for our truly falling in love with each other.
Valerie and I have now been married over three years. I can't recall a time, without trying, that we were ever apart. She and I share a trust that I have never known before and she puts up with most of my abrasiveness as well. There have been other trying times along the way, but nothing like what we went through over the last 16 weeks of her pregnancy with Leyton. During that time, there was more than one day that I wondered if we would make it at all, let alone still be together three years later.
17 months ago, Valerie and I welcomed Amity to the mix and the family seems complete. Of course, you never know what might happen if you're not actively NOT trying to get pregnant again.
Nothing that happened with Jenn was what I had wanted, but it all added up to me meeting Valerie. Nothing that happened with Leyton's diagnosis was what anyone would want, but it lead to the strengthening of my marriage. It's funny how life throws you things that seem so terrible at first. I don't know how much I might have believed this before all the above took place, but I can say for certain right now that everything truly must happen for a reason. And I am so glad that everything that happened, happened exactly the way it did. I wouldn't have changed it for the world.
On our three-year anniversary, Valerie posted the following on her facebook status: "I'd like to tell you that three years ago today I married my best friend, but in reality, three years ago today I married a stranger who became my best friend." I don't think I'd be very happy at all if one of my kids winds up doing something as stupid as Valerie and I did, but who's to say it wouldn't work? It has been one strange trip, but the journey to here has been incredible. I might just be the luckiest man alive.
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