Today is our five year wedding anniversary. Five years, five pregnancies, three saint babies, three babies here on Earth, two JDs, two Georgia Bar memberships, one house, and one minivan later, here we are! That seems like a lot when I write it all out like that.
Scott and I met in a dorm room a couple weeks into our freshman year at UGA. He was brooding and watching the VMAs. A true Edward Cullen before there was Edward Cullen. My friend and I coaxed him and all his friends to go dancing downtown. We danced together, he got my number, called me the next day, and the rest is history. When we met, we were just teenagers, but he told me he was going to marry me. He is a man of his word.
I came from a fancy private school in Atlanta, he came from a public school in a small town. Suffice it to say that we came from very different backgrounds. He was very jarred by his first Thanksgiving with my family. I suppose red beans and rice and pig’s feet soup are not traditional Thanksgiving fare. He kept looking at the large plantain in his red beans like a UFO had just landed on his plate. I had to keep reassuring him that my relatives were not yelling at him. That was just their normal speaking volume . He stuck around even though a karaoke machine was brought out at the end of Thanksgiving dinner and an unnamed relative did do a fantastic Tina Turner dance to “Proud Mary.” Now, that is love. Or he was impressed with how awesome we are.
We were married after six long years of dating. I wore my Abuela’s mantilla from Spain.
I thought I loved him plenty when we were married, but that was nothing in comparison to how much I love what a wonderful father he is.
My father has said that the best thing you can do for your children is to love their mother. In my humble opinion, Scott has lived up to this standard admirably. He is the only man in a sea of girls, and we couldn’t ask for better. Happy Anniversary, Scott. Have a day of watching college football blissfully uninterrupted this fall on me. You’ve earned it.