i meant to write this post yesterday, because four years ago yesterday, i had what would end up being the best, and last, date of my life.
i know, i know, i'm ridiculous, but seriously, the date i had with D four years ago was awesome. he made chili verde, we drank wine, we both wore stripey shirts, and we made out in the kitchen. don't try to argue with the math with that. wine + porky goodness + kissing in the kitchen = grow up and get married. true story.
today, four years ago, i met my kids. they sat on one couch while D and i sat on another, and they played their DS's and gave us sidelong glances, and there was a lot of giggling and happy times. i had literally thought for all of five minutes about being step-parent before that, and while i was not sure i could do it, i knew that day how much i liked them, and that if i already felt that way, then we'd probably be okay.
meeting them right before the holidays was a good thing. i remember that first christmas, after i'd met them, and mom making fun of me because my chin was all pink from making out (!), and making furtive calls outside to tell him how much i missed him, and how much fun we had on new year's eve. to me, my beginning of my family will always be tied up in happy holiday memories, with us goofing in the kitchen and buying each other presents and having that doofy, newly in love feeling. shy and happy and spending a lot of time together. i never forget how lucky i am, how happy i am, how at home i feel with these three amazing people who made me part of their family.