A Valentine's day bedtime story.

Dear chickens-to-be,

In honor of Valentine's Day I thought I would tell you the story of how your daddy and I met/fell in love/got to this point. Even though we are still just waitin' on the wait list, I'm going to pretend you guys are already here and practice my mama-multi-tasking, so this story can only take as long as one load of laundry. Ready... go!

Long long ago, way back in the 90's I went to the Sundance Film Festival and as per the custom, I fell in love with an Actor. He (AKA: LA Boyfriend) lived in LA, I lived in Berkeley... so for 3 years we did the long distance commute thing (which got even longer when I went to SE Asia for 6 months). Finally we decided, if this was going to "happen" we needed to try living in the same town so in 2001 I moved to Los Angeles.

Most of my friends were amazed that I would give up my beloved, crunchy, arty Bay Area for the hip, slick, cool Capitol of Entertainment but this is what love does... it opens you up to new love. Which is exactly what happened... the love I felt for Actor only lasted another year but it didn't matter because in those 12 months I had moved on and fallen in love with Los Angeles. So I found a new apartment and a roommate... Allora, who was a friend of a friend of a friend through work. She was a totally new person in my life and had a totally new group of friends who ultimately became my friends too. One of those friends was your father, The Esquire.

The first time I met him was at Scrabble night (Aug 2002). Now, I should admit that I don't really enjoy Scrabble...it's not the most fun game for a non-speller. And let's face it, I can't spell. At all. I spell "cat" with a K... One of the pros of adopting you versus producing you biologically is the hope that you won't get my must-have-spellcheck gene. But your dad, a Spelling Bee Champ, LOVES Scrabble, and takes it very seriously. So the first real memory I have of meeting The Esq. is listening to him argue over the rules of Scrabble. (something about whether or not you can lay a word beside another word so that the side by side tiles create a third - or fourth or fifth - word.. Whatever.) He seemed nice, a bit argumentative but nice enough. I didn't really pay much attention to him.

Fast forward 2 months and The Twins (two of my new friends courtesy of my new housing situation) suddenly decided that I needed to start dating again... and why not start w/ The Esq?! Apparently, he had told The Twins he liked me and sent them as his emissaries. So for the next 3 months all I heard was "why don't you date The Esq??" Now, let me be clear here: I only heard this from The Twins. The Esquire himself, NEVER made any visible move on me AT ALL (usually at this point in the story The Esq says something dry and witty like, "I had a plan. And it worked. We're married aren't we?"). At this point in my life, I was not interested in dating anyone. So to dissuade The Twins, I simply said, "Esquire smokes...I will never date another smoker." Two days later, at lunch, The Esquire said, "So guess what? I've decided to quit smoking!" hmmmmm....

Oscar night 2003: all our friends were out of town so The Esquire and I decided to watch the awards show together. Late in the evening The Esq was laying on the couch and I was sitting on the floor leaning against the couch; we were passing sections of the Sunday NYT back and forth. Suddenly, as I passed him the Book Review, I was overcome with the most intense feeling of COMFORT I had ever felt in my life. I saw the rest of my life flash before my eyes and it involved sharing the Sunday Times with this man. Naturally, I totally freaked out, jumped up, hastily said goodbye and fled. Later your father said that I ran out of there so fast all the newspapers blew around in my wake.

When the phone rang the next morning I knew it was going to be The Esquire before I even answered it. He was calling to invite me to lunch downtown and then for a tour of the LA Public Library. Ok... here's what you need to know in order to get why this was such a smoooooooth mooooove: I LOVE downtown LA. I LOVE LOVE LOVE libraries (especially the one downtown in all it's Art Deco Gloriousness). And I was unemployed so the quickest way to my heart was a free meal. Seriously, he scored all around. Lunch was good. We did the moth dance. Flirted. Laughed. Jumped when we touched accidentally.

Two days later we met for dinner and continued the moth dance. Only this time when our hands accidentally touched under the table, he didn't let go. Which was good because without that tether I might have floated away. Later that night we kissed for the first time. Much later that night I sent an email to my two best friends that basically read, "oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god. I kissed The Esquire." I was totally blown away. I had honestly, never thought of him romantically until the Newspaper Moment. Even with The Twins badgering, I just wasn't in that mindset, so as much as I enjoyed The Esquire as a friend, I didn't think of him romantically at all. And then suddenly, it was all I could think about.

Our first date was one week later when we took a 72 hour trip to Washington DC to visit friends. On the flight home we had one of those Long Serious Deep Conversations that only new daters can have and I said teasingly, "sure, it's all fun and games now until three years have passed and you break up with me." Your father said in total seriousness, "In three years we will either be married or long broken up. Who dates for three years at our age?" That might have been the first grown up statement ever made by any man I'd ever dated and it took my breath away. And he was right. We were married less than 3 years later. (I'll save all the getting-engaged craziness for another story but let me warn you son-to-be, don't let your girlfriend see an email saying "I'm going to propose in June" and then wait until September! Trust me. It ain't pretty.)

This spring will be our 4th anniversary and let me tell you little future children... you could not pick a more in love couple of parents than us. Seriously, it might have taken me awhile to get there but I think The Esquire is just about the most perfect man around. Definitely the most perfect man for me. If you don't believe me ask our friends. No one thought I would ever find a man who cooks (a requirement) and loves to travel/read/shop/hang out as much as I do (while also loving to hunt/build/farm as much as my daddy does!). A more perfect match could not have been made.

Oh...the final rinse just started... I need to wrap this up.

The little footnote to this story is that the subject of children (and oddly, tithing) were deal breakers early on in our dating. I had never really wanted kids. I had more than enough children in my life to love...didn't feel a need for my own. But your father wanted a family more than anything. I wasn't interested at all, and so it became An Issue. But just like The Newspaper Moment, all my feelings changed one day when I saw your father playing with his godson. Suddenly it occurred to me that it wasn't ME having children it was US having children. For whatever reason, in the past I had never really thought/believed/considered the fact that there could be someone as amazing as the Esquire to share a family with. And just like that, I was game. And the Children Issue was taken off the table and we've been talking/wishing/praying/working towards our family ever since.

So my little love bugs... no matter what, always know that your father and I are deeply, deeply in love with each other and with you. We may fight sometimes (Why can't he finish a building project! Why can't I close cabinet doors!) but those are just fleeting moments... our love is strong and we will always, always read the New York Times together.

xoxox-your multi-tasking mama

ps- you are never allowed to go to Sundance. Not even to meet the man who will help you meet The Man.

This was taken after our wedding ceremony, as we sailed towards our New Lives... or, more plainly put, as we motored from one side of the pond to the other for the reception....