Dear Ana and Emma,

Ahh, Valentine’s Day! The most romantic day of the year, right?

Eh. Probably not. Actually, this holiday is fairly lame. But you always manage to get chocolate from Papi, so it can’t be all bad, right?

Since we can’t go anywhere without being assaulted by pink candy, red hearts, and stuffed animals so large that they would require their own storage unit (really — a big, huge, life-size teddy bear is romantic?), I can’t let this holiday pass by without telling my own little romantic tale to you, even if the holiday itself is kind of silly.

You two know (or at least I hope you do), as you’re finally all grown and reading this, that this blog? Was for you. What a gift, that you have a record of all the cute things that you did and said growing up. What a gift, that you never have to wonder what I struggled with or worried about or rejoiced over as you grew into young women. What a terrible, terrible burden, having all of these pages and pages to read!

A few years ago, I wrote about how Papi and I met. And I kind of glossed over the ending there, explaining that, oh, three weeks after our first date we had a wedding date on the calendar. No biggie, right? You’ve probably been wondering about that, and even if I’ve explained it to you as you’ve gotten older, you’re probably still scratching your heads over how that happened as quickly as it did and how it doesn’t jive with how I’ve taught you that you should know someone for YEARS before agreeing to marry them, right?

Ahem.

All that said, I’m taking the opportunity to begin to write about those three weeks today, as this week marks nine years since that night we concluded that we were getting married to one another. Sure, we waited another month until we were officially engaged, because two months of dating before an engagement instead of three weeks of dating before an engagement? Just that much easier for people to handle. Maybe. Kinda. Okay, not at all. Oh, well!

Even though it was only three weeks, the story is kind of long. So, I’ll break it up into three parts. That way, you can regroup more quickly and better prepare all the many questions I’m sure my story will bring up. Like, is it okay to plan a wedding before you’ve even met your future in-laws? Or, will you make the dean’s list at seminary if you spend all your time flirting over cafeteria leftovers? And, is it a smart idea to spend the entirety of an evening kissing a man you hardly know, just because you think he’s super cute?

No, no, and NO. Oh, dear. Perhaps this story will bring up more questions than I can answer. Actually, a resounding NO was good enough to answer those particular questions, and I’m sure it will suffice for all the others that you can think up. So, answering was easier than I thought. Whew!

Bring on the story!

Love, Mommy