Lucky Rose

Last Saturday was a big day, a first for our family. We adopted an adorable dog named Lucky. Well, Lucky Rose "TD" to be exact. The details in the name come from multiple children with lots of opinions. Marissa wanted to make sure the new female in the family wasn't mistaken for a boy so she chose Rose as an official part of the dog's name. "TD"  stands for "the dog"  and comes from the 13-year-old boy who  loves to throw in nicknames and slang to prove he's down with it, hip, fly and totally lit, yo!!  😉  As  entertaining as it has been to watch my children interact with Lucky, she has seriously been a blessing in our lives. Lucky  has healed hearts and brought joy to our family in a way that is difficult to describe.  She is the new best friend Dylan desperately needed.  She is the self-proclaimed "sister" Marissa has always wanted.  She is a calming presence Preston seeks, and the fun Caleb looks for in a playmate.  But the story of Lucky is so much bigger than a cute dog, pet rescue and adoption.  So much bigger.

Thanksgiving 2017 began like any other.  Marcos and Dylan headed out with the big boys for shotgun shooting in the morning.  I hung out with the younger kids while fixing mashed potatoes for dinner.  Dinner was great, my mashed potatoes were a hit, the kids got along great, gratitude filled the air...
It was a Thanksgiving to remember!

Marcos and I had taken different cars to allow for some early black Friday shopping since Dylan is now old enough to want a "big kid" gift and the shotgun he wanted was super discounted.  After the shotgun purchase had taken place, Marcos and Dylan headed back for pie and we finished the evening off great.  At some point, I realized it was super late and time to get kids in bed.  I took the younger two home in the van and Marcos headed out in the car with Dylan and Preston.

I got kids tucked in bed and started wondering what was taking Marcos so long when he drove up with the boys.  They were super excited, attempting to relay the story of the evening.  Apparently my mom's neighbors were coming out of their house as Marcos and the boys headed for the car, which was parked on the street.  It turns out their daughter fosters dogs who have been rescued from the shelter.  She was there with her own two dogs and a third who was a foster dog.  My kids fell in love with the little beagle they met and were eager to tell me all about her.  They had even taken her over to my mom's house and my mom loved the dog (truly shocking since my mother is super practical and not the type to encourage me to add extra responsibilities to my already overflowing plate).  The kids wanted me to meet Lucky and made sure it happened by telling Marissa and Caleb all about the cute dog they met that night.  To top it all off, Marcos took me aside when the kids weren't around and said, "Hon, I know it's weird, but I feel like she's meant to be our dog."  Sigh.  Outnumbered.  I was COMPLETELY outnumbered.

The next two weeks were a blur.  We met up with the foster family the following day at a park and got to know the dog.  She was really good with the kids and is great with other dogs as well.  What I couldn't believe was how she already seemed to be our dog.  She listened to Dylan and followed him around.  She snuggled up by Marissa on a blanket, lovingly arranged just for her. It was like Lucky had always been a part of our family...only we had just met her.  I wasn't sure I wanted another pet.  Actually, to be perfectly honest, I DID NOT want another pet.  Don't get me wrong.  I love animals!  But I get super attached to them and losing Dexter this summer was an emotional process.  Plus, I already have a house full of creatures for whom I am responsible and I wasn't sure my sanity could handle one more thing.  Marcos felt the same, although he can usually be persuaded a little easier than I can in situations like this.  But instead of feeling like he was giving in, he was pretty sentimental about the whole thing. It appeared this dog was going to join our family. It's like she was already ours.

At one point, we ran into a glitch and it looked like Lucky might not be available to be adopted.  The kids were already super attached and I knew it would break their heart if this dog did not become a member of our family.  And yet, I was NOT nervous or afraid.  Every single detail had fallen into place up to this point.  From the timing of Dylan noticing Lucky on Thanksgiving to the way she interacted with our children.  From the kindness and generosity we found in the couple who was fostering Lucky to the feeling Marcos and I had that she was meant to join our family.   It all happened effortlessly.  Somehow, even in the face of potential heartbreak, I knew it would all work out the way it needed to.

Lucky is sweet and gentle, poised and dignified.  She is extremely smart and has the nose of a hunting dog.  She brings a calm demeanor to our home, something we were definitely lacking.  It still shocks me that a dog can change the energy in our home so much, but she does. Lucky also has a bit of a stubborn streak and a little bit of mischief in her nature. At first those two facts scared me.  But if I'm  being honest with myself, it likely means she is ABSOLUTELY PERFECT for our family dynamic.  It took me a couple days to warm up to the idea of having a dog again.  I was mainly making my decisions based on my observations of my children with Lucky.  However, my heart continues to soften to this new creature more and more, and I simply can't imagine our home without her now.

The story of Lucky Rose is a story of FAITH, of HOPE, of LOVE.  It's a perfect story for Thanksgiving and Christmas, the very timing this true story took place.  It's a story of gratitude, kindness and miracles.  Lucky will always be a reminder of God's love and goodness, of His infinite wisdom and His ability to manage the details of our lives.

The Man I Love...

“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.”          - Timothy J. Keller

I love quirks.  You know what I mean?  Those little nuances that make individuals unique.  I love them!  Some are annoying, but I feel like they are what bond us to others.  It's what makes us feel known and still loved by those closest to us.  

I remember the first time I watched Marcos get ready for a soccer game after we had been married.  I'd watched him play many times, but I'd never been privy to the pre-game process.  Oh my goodness!  I simply stared at him wide-eyed in disbelief.  After all, Marcos is a pretty chill dude.  What in the world was he doing?  He tucked his shirt into his soccer shorts, untucked it a little, tucked it back in a little more, untucked it on the side...  I'm not kidding.  This was a LONG process!!  I thought we were done with the "ritual" when he put on his shin guards, sleeves and soccer socks.  Holy crap!  The fold at the top of the socks had to be just so.  He pulled them up and folded them over a million times.  I kid you not!!  I get it.  With sports there are often superstitions and nervous habits that then become part of the routine.  I'm pretty sure that was the case with Marcos.  But it was like being in a different world.  Who in the world did I marry?  Was he going to be this nervous and precise about EVERYTHING?  I didn't comment.  I just observed.  As a sports-loving girl myself, I could NOT relate to this level of intensity.  Sure I got butterflies and would jump up and down a couple times to get my game face on, but I could be ready for a sporting event in two minutes flat, including double knots in the shoes and the retrieval of the water bottle.  

Our love was still young and flirtatious and I used my new ammunition to taunt and tease him just enough to keep things fun.  But his OCD sports ritual was eye-opening to say the least.  

Then there were the little annoying habits everyone talks about in marriage.  Marcos will use a different bathroom rather than change the toilet paper roll.  His habits in the empty toilet paper roll department have improved some, but he did not change a toilet paper roll for YEARS.  We have a little cup/dish that we keep stocked with q-tips.  He will choose not to use q-tips for weeks at a time rather than refill that little cup.  I used to tease him that we had a toilet paper and q-tip fairy that would go around refilling everything in our home.  For us, it was never the source of an argument, but certainly we had some laughs and moments of annoyance in this department.  Over time, those quirky behaviors have become endearing.  It's strange but true.  

Last weekend, we did some deep cleaning around the house.  Marcos cleaned bathrooms while I was working on the kitchen with Dylan.  When I went back upstairs, I found THIS in my bathroom.  I couldn't help but smile.

On a scale of 1-10, bathroom decor rates a whopping NEGATIVE 50 for Marcos.  As long as he has the basics, he couldn't care less about the rest.  I get it.  He doesn't notice what the decorations say.  He doesn't need fancy towels.  But this habit of rearranging the bathroom decorations every time he helped out would bother me a little.  Nothing major.  More like "Can you please pay attention to what I told you last time?" kind of way.  It definitely wasn't a huge deal, but I would mention it.  "Hey, you know the candles in the bathroom?  They are supposed to say 'Live. Laugh. LOVE.' not 'Live. Love. Laugh.'  I switched them back, but in case you didn't know the order I thought I would mention it.  Will you try to put them back in the right order next time?"

Yes!  The order of the candles has been a point of discussion many times.  So...I was shocked to find myself smiling as I looked at the candles once again rearranged "INCORRECTLY."  My internal dialog went something like this.  "There is NO way Marcos is arranging things differently on purpose.  Nope!  He is actually trying to be helpful.  Somehow in his mind they are supposed to read 'Live. Love. Laugh.'  It's as simple as that.  Perhaps in his own subtle way, he's sending me a message.  Maybe subconsciously he knows I need more of a reminder to laugh than to love most of the time, something that is surprisingly easy for him, but can be a challenge for me when life gets rough.  Yep!  Maybe I need a reminder to LAUGH more often."  So...I left them.  I decided there must be a good reason for the reorganization.  And now every time I step out of the shower, I think about the man I love and the quirks that make him unique.  The simple yet profound things that make me love him more every day.

This past month has been really rough for me.  Really really rough!  I hesitate to use extreme words, but breakdown would probably be a fairly accurate description.  As I worked to try to figure out why life seemed to be collapsing all around me, Marcos stood by my side as a loving and supportive companion.  He took the kids so I could rest.  He sent me on a mental health trip for a long weekend to hike and bike and wander around in nature (something that truly makes my heart sing).  And he loved me.  When I wasn't cute or fun or lovable, he loved me.  When I crossed the line of being sane, he loved me.  He may have been quaking with fear inside, but he stood strong.  Strong, steady and immovable during a storm of immense proportions.  Few people will likely understand the immensity of those statements.  But for me, they are a sign of the truest love.  A sign of deep and lasting love.

When it comes to fatherhood, Marcos is incredible!  As I walked from the bathroom into our bedroom, I glanced up at his nightstand.  The man is simplicity at its finest.  He does not keep random things around.  He hates things.  He detests clutter.  But he knows how much it means to our little ones to see gifts they give him being treasured.  So he keeps a few sentimental things lying around to show them he cares.  Below is a picture of the lamp on his nightstand.  A butterfly necklace from Marissa draped around his lampshade and a Halloween toy Caleb gifted to him that he tucked in snuggly next to the butterfly.  Weird?  Yes.  Distracting?  For sure.  But one of the cutest things I have ever seen.  Truly.

In the midst of my "rough" month, I did very little shopping or cooking.  So...we took the kids out to eat last weekend after we had the house back in working order.  It was a busy night and the restaurant was super crowded and chaotic.  In the middle of our dinner, a little girl at a table next to ours pushed on the handle of a door that is an emergency exit.  A loud, obnoxious alarm went off and added to the already chaotic ambiance.  I heard a man from a neighboring table whisper, "I'm glad it wasn't my kid!"  I have to admit, I was thinking the same thing.  If you know our rambunctious group, it totally could have been...at this snapshot in our lives most likely originating from the bouncy bubbly four-year-old, Caleb.  As a mother who has been chasing kids for over 13 years, the idea that we hadn't set off the alarm was a HUGE relief.  I felt so bad for the little girl who set off the alarm and also for her parents.  You could tell they were totally embarrassed.

After a couple minutes of loud, obnoxious alarm-sounding, an employee with a key came to the rescue.  As the young man approached, Marcos started talking.  For a minute, I was tempted to kick him under the table with a subtle message from the spouse of "Please do not make this worse with your comments and teasing!"  But I didn't.  I just sat there as a silent witness of a moment I will likely remember forever.  Marcos began with all the charm he could muster, "I'm sorry, Sir!  I didn't mean to set off the alarm.  I really didn't.  I promise I won't do it again."  The teen employee smiled, laughed it off and told him it was okay.  We all laughed a little, breathed a sigh of relief and returned to our dinner.

A few minutes later, the mother of the little girl collected her children and belongings to head out the door.  She stopped by our table and leaned over to Marcos and said,  "I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.  That was so thoughtful of you!  My daughter was so embarrassed that she set off the alarm.  It's her birthday today!  She was trying to help me take gifts out to the car and chose the closest door.  Your act of kindness mean so much to me!  Thank you for taking an extremely awkward situation and making it better for her."
OH MY HEART!!!  The emotion was intense.  I could relate to this woman on so many levels.  And my husband - MY SWEET THOUGHTFUL MARCOS - had used his friendly, outgoing personality to completely diffuse a situation that was already extremely embarrassing for this little girl and her parents.

I sat there just staring at him after they left.  He was clueless.  At some point he said, "Why are you looking at me with googly eyes?  You're making me nervous!"  I just laughed and teased him back a little.  "What?  I can look at you however I want!"  Later that night, we talked about the situation.  I told him how much it meant to me to watch him be so kind and thoughtful like that.  It's the part I most adore about the man of my dreams.  Truly!

As the day of Thanksgiving approaches, I find myself reflecting on the intense gratitude I feel for Marcos, a spouse who loves and adores me, my children and every person he meets.

A Really Rough Day...

Today was a rough day.  It started out as a busy but fairly average day.  I had dentist appointments scheduled for all the kids and for myself and then had a mentor retreat to attend to plan projects and coordinate with other mentors this year (I'm teaching Dylan's class this year in our Commonwealth School).  It was going to be tight, but I can manage a day here an there jumping from activity to activity.

Dexter (our dog) has been going downhill since spring, but has been worse the last week or so.   While I was making breakfast, Dylan came in to tell me the dog threw up.  I told him to take him out front in case he got sick again and to clean it up while I finished feeding the kids.  I went out to see how he was doing.  He did not look good.  I told Dylan to get a blanket and bring him inside so he was comfortable.  I knew it wasn't good.  So did Dylan.  He looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "Mom, I think this is Dexter's last day on earth."  I can't explain it, but I felt the same.  {Sigh}.  Stupid dentist appointments!  I've already rescheduled once.  Do you know how hard it is to try to get 5 appointments back to back? {Deep breath}.  Maybe I can still make this work.  I hurried to do Marissa's hair and assigned Preston to help Caleb get dressed.  Dylan sat with Dexter.  While I was doing Marissa's hair, Dylan yelled, "Mom!  Help!  Something is wrong with Dexter."  Dexter had tried to get up to walk upstairs and could not walk straight.  It was so sad!  He was worse than I thought.  I helped him get settled back down on the blanket and rushed back upstairs.  I needed help!  I could not possibly deal with a dying dog and get everyone to their appointment on time.

I texted a couple neighbors trying to find someone who might be home and available to help me.  I knew I couldn't leave Dexter alone.  I just knew it.  My sweet neighbor, Joann, came and drove my older three kids to the dentist so I could stay with Dexter until Marcos could get home to help me.  Marcos walked in the door and I felt like I could breathe again.  I didn't want to be alone.  My heart settled for a moment.  Marcos took one look at Dexter and said, "This isn't good."  Marcos works in hospice.  He knows the signs of death well.  He may not be a dog expert, but he has seen death many times.  Dexter tried to get up another time or two and could not move.  We quickly tried to make a plan.  Marcos called the vet to tell them we thought Dexter was dying and would probably need to be put down.  He scheduled an appointment for later that afternoon.  Within minutes, we decided to take him to the vet sooner.  They had an appointment earlier, but we were hoping the kids could say goodbye before we took him in.  It looked like that was no longer an option.  I took a blanket and laid it on the seat and Marcos carried Dexter to the car.  It was hard to watch.  I left to take Caleb to the dentist.  Marcos called me within 5 minutes telling me Dexter had taken his last breath and died in his arms a few minutes after he checked in at the vet.  Marcos was crying.  I was sobbing.

I showed up at the dentist attempting to keep my composure and get through the next hour.  Joann had stayed.  I just thought she would drop them off, but she stayed with my kids.  My heart was so full of gratitude when I walked in and saw her sitting there.  It's so great to have people.  People you know you can count on when you need something.  People who care.  We are blessed to have a whole bunch of those people in our lives and my heart was full as I saw her sitting patiently with Preston while Marissa and Dylan were in getting their teeth cleaned.  I was hoping they would call Caleb next and then I could go last, but they called me back first.  Originally I was supposed to be first but that plan changed with the dog situation.  Joann told me it was fine and stayed with Caleb in the waiting room while I went back for my cleaning.  I felt a twinge of guilt and pain walking away.  Holy cow!  Guilt?  Really?  I know I cannot be the only one who experiences this.  Do you ever feel guilty or bad needing help?  I totally do.  Like somehow we think we are supposed to be strong and able and fully capable of doing everything by ourselves...ALL THE FREAKING TIME!  It's so messed up.  I'm all about hard work and independence and empowering people and all.  Trust me.  It's been my life mantra.  But there is something so tender and real about needing others.  At that moment, I couldn't pretend to be independent and headstrong.  I needed help.  I really did.  I was barely able to get myself to the dentist's office and sit through the cleaning without sobbing uncontrollably.  I needed help with my kiddos and she was there for me.  It was a beautiful thing to experience.  Once Caleb was called back for his appointment, I walked out (halfway done) to tell Joann she could leave if she needed to.  The kids wanted to leave too so offered to take them home.  I later learned that she stopped and got all three of them lunch and then took them back to her house to watch a movie.  Seriously?  How great is that?  That's exactly what they needed!  They needed a distraction and I needed help to coordinate a million things and process a boatload of emotions.

Marcos was my hero.  He's a tender-hearted dude.  For real.  It's not easy for him to see the dog suffer and die or to watch his kids and wife brokenhearted over the loss of a family pet.  He put on some old shoes and started digging a hole in the backyard.  The love and appreciation I felt for my husband at the moment was unreal.  He had to leave work to come help his family in our moment of crisis and he didn't skip a beat.  He just did it.  He came running, carried the dog, watched him take his last breaths, and then came back to bury him in the yard.  We had the kids say goodbye and buried him in the ground by the chicken coop.  The middle two kids went back to finish the movie at Joann's, and Dylan, Marcos and I hugged and cried and hugged some more.  Caleb watched a movie.  Desperate times.  

At some point, Marcos decided to try to work from home for the rest of the day.  He had a lot of office work today and figured he could at least pound that out from home while he stayed around to be part of the somber day we were all experiencing.  He sat down at his computer with his notebook and stack of papers when his phone rang.  It was his mom.  She was calling to tell him his abuela (grandma) in Argentina had passed away that afternoon.  Today was her 93rd birthday.  I saw the look in his eyes as he spoke to his mom on the phone and knew something was wrong.  I walked behind him and wrapped my arms around him and just stood there holding him as he spoke to his mom.  When he hung up the phone, he put his hands on his head and leaned his elbows on the table and cried some more.  I just held him.  I didn't know what else to do.  We were both emotionally spent.  It felt like a dream.  I knew he was determined to work and be the manly breadwinner, but I told him he should probably take it easy the rest of the day.  He called his boss and a co-worker and ended up calling it a day as far as work goes.

We told Dylan about bisabuela (great grandma).  He started sobbing and could barely control himself.  It was definitely a lot for a kid to take in all in one day.  I hugged him and held him tight.  I've learned not to let go first when I hug my children.  I let them lead out on that.  If they need to be held longer, I'm there.  So I held him.  When he relaxed his arms and started to pull away from me, I stepped back a bit.  He looked at me with swollen eyes and said, "Mom, I bet bisabuela is holding Dexter right now."  I couldn't disagree.  I loved abuela!  She had a heart of gold and would do anything for anyone.  She could make me laugh without blinking an eye.  She had a way of firmly yet gently giving advice that helped you move forward and change when times were tough.  I loved that about her!  She could knit anything and made gifts for each of the grandkids and great grandkids often.  Oh how I loved her!  We didn't get to see her often, but I treasure the moments I got to spend getting to know and love abuela.

Marcos and I sat on the couch hand in hand.  Silent.  He looked over at me.  "I can't even cry anymore.  I have no more tears."  I squeezed his hand and whispered, "I know."  As tears starting streaming down my face again, I teased, "It's okay.  I'll cry for you.  Apparently my supply of tears is endless."  He smiled.  We sat in silence for a thousand more moments together.  It was magical.  People.  Emotions.  Life.  Connection.

Marcos made calls to his aunts and uncles and some cousins to tell them he was sorry about abuela's passing.  I love that quality about him so much.  SO MUCH!  When something bad happens, he reaches out to those he loves.  He reaches out to comfort and connect.  I often fear that vulnerability.  My emotions are deep. I'm not sure how to explain it except that I FEEL things on a super deep level.  It's both a blessing and a curse.  Sometimes when I'm faced with a situation like this, the deepness of my emotions takes me low enough that I feel I might drown.  So I hide or pretend I'm fine or numb the pain with one of my favorite addictions (like diet Mountain Dew or Dove chocolate - minor perhaps, but addictions nonetheless).  Watching him reach out to his family at that moment warmed my heart.  There's a reason he's my person.  He helps me be brave when I think I will drown.

I sat next to Marcos on the couch listening to him talk to his family.  I texted my family to let them know we'd had a rough day and what was going on.  I also texted Joann to thank her for everything she had done that day.  Joann said it was nothing (of course) and told me the kids had been super cute.  She told me after we buried Dexter and they went back to the house that Preston and Marissa had said, "It's okay.  Dexter is happy.  We buried him with the chickens.  He's where he always wanted to be, but never could go."  I had to smile.  Their statement was as true as it gets.  Keeping Dexter away from ducks and chickens has been a huge pain.  So we laid him to rest in a place we knew he loved.

Time stood still.  Marcos finished talking to his relatives.  At some point, he looked at me and said, "I'm glad you're my wife.  You mean the world to me!  I cannot imagine going through life without you by my side."  Weird.  That's exactly what I had been thinking.  It's funny how devastating moments can bring people closer together.  I'm not glad our dog is gone or that Marcos lost his abuela today.  But I'm grateful for the reminder our family received of how precious life is and how blessed we are to have one another.

Dylan and Dexter at the pond this summer

A boy and his dog

Burying Dexter

As difficult as this moment was, there is nothing quite as sexy as watching a man do difficult things for his family without thought or complaint

When I looked back on pictures, I got choked up as I realized how many memories Dexter shared with us.  Here he is leading toddler Caleb across a bridge on a hike a couple  years ago.  

Dylan and bisabuela in 2012 when Marcos and Dylan visited Argentina

Marcos and abuela

5 - Speaking Spanish

This is post #5 of our story. If you haven't read the others, start with #1 and read the posts in order. 

Post #1

Post #2

Post #3

Post #4

5 - Speaking Spanish

A couple days after the first interview (a.k.a. date) I called Marcos to set up the next one. I had learned a lot about this kid during our first interview, but I had to meet with him three times for my paper. We set up a time and decided we would meet at his house and do the interview there. I cannot begin to describe how nervous I was. It was so much more than just a paper now...and I didn't want to mess it up. 

I drove to his house and worked up the courage to knock on the door.  He answered again, but instead of opening the door to let me in, he walked out onto the porch and closed the door behind him. 
"Hey! My friend just got here from Argentina. He's enrolling at Weber State in the fall, but he doesn't speak much English. I was thinking he might be able to answer some questions for your paper as well. I hope that's okay. It would be kind of rude to speak in English the whole time since his language skills are limited. Would you mind conducting the interview in Spanish?" 
*Gulp. 
My stomach dropped, my throat tightened, and I pinched myself to make sure it wasn't just a bad dream. I was TOTALLY FREAKING OUT inside, but I tried to remain calm. I understand almost everything in Spanish and speak it fairly well, but my experience actually speaking with non-English speakers was pretty much all gained in the one month I spent during a study abroad experience I had in Costa Rica. That's where the language finally clicked for me, but it still made me nervous. I would normally prepare a little before conducting AN INTERVIEW in Spanish. 
YIKES!! Now what?  I'll have to translate all my questions as I go along and pray I understand their responses. 
Let's just say that the focus of being nervous about having a crush on the kid totally shifted. I was now completely focused on the interview itself. Marcos had asked me to speak to him in Spanish before and I had refused. His English is perfect so I knew my "second language" would fall short and I didn't want to make a fool of myself. Now I HAD to speak Spanish with him AND some random stranger. To say I was uncomfortable, would've been the understatement of the century. 

I can't tell you what I said or how it went. I guess my survival instincts kicked in and somehow I managed to get through it. At the end of the interview, I thanked Israel for helping me and let Marcos walk me out to my car. 
*Heart pounding from the rush of adrenalin I received as my fight or flight kicked into high gear

Marcos was grinning from ear to ear. 

Hmm...why is he smiling like that?  Well, I totally rocked it!  I'm sure he's impressed with my Spanish skills.  I hate that I had to scramble and do everything in Spanish, but I have to say, I rocked that interview big time!  Go me!!  

Marcos complimented me on my Spanish and thanked me for being so polite and willing to adapt to the situation. Then he gave me a hug that eased my discomfort. It was a nice, long, I-really-care-about-you hug. My heart melted. He opened my door, helped me into the car, shut the door and stepped onto the curb. 

As I was flipping the car around, he motioned for me to roll down my window. I thought he was going to say something charming for me to smile about the whole way home. Instead, his friend poked his head out the door and said, "Thanks for the interview. I really enjoyed meeting you. By the way, your Spanish is great." 

Marcos laughed and waved as I drove away. 

You have got to be kidding me? This kid just tricked me into speaking Spanish with him. Grr....game on, bro.  Game on!!

I didn't know what to think. I was pretty mad at having been deceived by this dude, but I had to give him props for coming up with a plan to get me to bust out my Spanish.  Somehow I was able to see past my irritation at being duped.  I'm guessing it had something to do with being stuck in the romantic phase of love where all I could think about was how cute he was and how much I liked him.  Thank you, limerence!  

I don't remember a third interview. I'm guessing I decided that not only did I have enough information to write a paper, but I also wasn't sure I could handle much more embarrassment.  

Marcos says...

Yeah buuuuddddyyyy!!!!  Maria actually thought she'd never have to speak Spanish around me...really?!?!  Well, my plan was awesome, if I do say so myself.  Maria's Spanish was very good.  Actually Maria knows more about Spanish grammar rules, conjugation and vocabulary than I do.  If you say something, I can tell you if it's right or wrong, but I can't tell you why.  Maria can!!!  Anyway, that interview/date will go down in history as one of the most savvy moments of my life.  Game on?!?!  Oooookkkkk!!!  I'm still waiting......

4 - Intercultural Communications, Robintino's & Baseball

This is post #4 of our love story. If you haven't been following, start with post #1 and read in sequential order. 

Post #1

Post #2

Post #3

4 - Intercultural Communications, Robintino's & Baseball

Summer quarter came around and I registered for 18 credit hours. Full-time was considered 12-18 credit hours and I liked to get the biggest bang for my buck...even if I was on scholarship.  I was a strategic, frugal overachiever. 😜 Plus, it's a little known secret that professors are generally just as lazy as students during the summer and the classes tend to be a bit easier. I was taking a class called "Intercultural Communications" that would fulfill one of my general education requirements.  I'd taken another communications class that I liked so I figured this one would be fun.  I showed up the first day of class and found out I had a paper due in four weeks (it was an accelerated summer class) that was based on interviews I would conduct with someone from another country. Each interview had to be at least an hour long and we had to meet with the individual on three separate occasions.  The paper would be based on what we learned about the person and their culture during our interviews. The professor recommended we go into one of the ESL classes and find someone to interview there. 

I went home and was talking to my mom about how awkward it was going to be to randomly walk into an ESL class and coerce someone into letting me interview them. Since I tend to share most things with my mom, she knew all about Marcos. 
"Why don't you just interview Marcos? Isn't he from Argentina?" 
Holy cow! Why hadn't I thought of that? He'll be easy to interview. Yes, that's what I'll do. 

I got his phone number from Sherice (the girl he'd been sitting next to when he first hit on me) and called him up. He agreed to be interviewed so I arranged to meet him at the home where he was living in Centerville. Perfect! 

I showed up with my questions prepared and was ready for the interview. He had other plans. I knocked on the door and he greeted me with a smile. 

"Why don't we do the interview over dinner?"  

I paused for a minute and then responded,  

"Okay.  Sure."  

I needed to eat anyway - I'd been at school ALL day and gone straight to meet with Marcos after my classes finished.

I drove to dinner since Marcos didn't have a car (well, he had a piece of junk that didn't run).  

We ended up at Robintino's. 

Okay, I can do Italian. 

I ordered the half and half - half spaghetti and half lasagna - and then he ordered the same. I wasn't sure if that's what he really wanted or if he was just trying to be polite. I started asking him questions about where he was born, how he grew up, what his childhood was like, etc. and found myself completely drawn to his story. The more he told me about himself, the more the butterflies in my stomach fluttered. I was really starting to like this kid. 

Dang it!  I do not want a distraction right now.

I have no idea how long we were there, but we had finished our dinner and were still chatting away. Sometimes I wrote things down for my paper, sometimes I just listened. 

We weren't finished talking so we decided to continue our conversation elsewhere. I went to pay for dinner since it was my interview, but he wouldn't let me. After all, he was loaded. 😉  

Marcos worked 20 hours a week at the Union Building making $5/hr. The kid was just rollin' in money!! 😂

**Sigh** He's such a gentleman!!  I guess chivalry's not dead after all.  **Heart pounding** Oh my heck...he's SO CUTE!!  **Deep breath**  Relax, Maria.  You're just here for an interview so you can write a paper for class.  

Marcos definitely earned points with his smooth moves.  Not only did he pay for dinner, he also insisted on opening doors for me the whole night and treating the evening as if it was our first date.  To him it was. Marcos decided to take full advantage of any opportunity he had to court me since it had been an insurmountable task to get me to agree to a date.

Once again he was the navigator and I was the driver. We ended up stopping at a junior high school and watching a baseball game while we finished talking. After I'd asked him all the questions I had prepared, he paused for a minute and then said, 

"Well, now that I've answered all the questions you had for me, would you mind if I asked you just one question?"  

Gulp.  Now what?   

"Sure!  I guess that's only fair," I responded, attempting to play it cool. "Would you ever be willing to go out with me if it wasn't for a grade?" 

Ouch! That hurt a bit. I guess I have been pretty hard on the poor guy. 

My face was a combination of embarrassment and flattery. I responded with a simple 

"Yes." 

I dropped him off, thanked him for dinner and the interview, gave him a hug and was on my way home. 

**Squeal**  Oh my heck!!  He's amazing.  Like truly amazing!! 

I'm pretty sure I replayed every single word of our conversation during my 30 minute drive home. 

Whoa...I have a major crush on the kid I turned down almost a year ago.  I can't believe this is happening.  Seriously!!  How am I ever going to live this down?  

Marcos says...

I remember that first "interview"...at least that's what Maria calls it.  I call it a date. 

We had a great time!!! We really connected. I already liked Maria, but I started to like her on a much deeper level that day.  When Maria drove away, I knew she was the girl I was going to marry.

3 - Spring Formal Saga

Disclaimer: This is post #3 in our story.  If you're lost or confused, start with post #1 and read in sequence. 

Post #1

Post #2

3 - Spring Formal Saga

LaDianaeda held an annual Spring Formal that was basically a required event. For the most part, you could get out of activities if you had to, but this was one of a few events that everyone attended. Sometime around March, I started fretting about Spring Formal. Trying to find a date for a formal dance pretty much sucks when you don't have a boyfriend. Formal dances are for couples or people who really like each other. My best friend, Lisa, got to hear me whine and complain and worry about Spring Formal for at least a month. Lisa and I are very similar in many ways, but we are definitely not the same. Lisa was much braver than I was, particularly when it came to boys. She saw my whining as an opportunity to coordinate fun dates for both of us, and eagerly set to work looking for potential candidates.  Lisa and I talked multiple times a day, but in between gab sessions, we would email each other life updates. There literally was nothing about me this girl did not know. Most of our emails at the time revolved around the upcoming dance. Lisa was in the process of finalizing a double date with a guy she wanted to take and his friend, someone she thought would be a fun date for me. In one email, I mentioned that I didn't want it to be this big ordeal where I'd feel nervous and all this pressure to have THE. PERFECT. DATE. The last "dance" I'd been to was Snowball. It was super informal and fun.  Snowball was a dance where we choose names and set each other up with secret dates. That had been a great success for me - I got set up with a pretty nice guy who was fun and who I considered a friend. NO PRESSURE! Our dance picture is me giving the kid a piggyback ride. Totally my style!!  Even though this was a formal dance, I was hoping it would still be fun and somewhat chill. At some point in the email, I mentioned that it might be a good idea to take somebody I already knew so it wouldn't be this awkward blind date - "...maybe I should just take Marcos." 

The email ended just like that. 

As luck would have it, Marcos walked into the computer lab while Lisa was reading my email. Being the friendly man that he is, he walked over to say hello and sees the phrase "maybe I should just take Marcos" practically flashing at him. The next day, I received an email from muboldi@weber.edu Who in the world is muboldi?  Who's sending me an email? What kind of last name is Uboldi?  How do you even pronounce that? 

I opened the email and realized it was from Marcos. I remember thinking to myself that Uboldi was sure a strange "latino" name. Huh? I thought his last name was Garcia or Valdez or something like that? Ugh! I would HATE that last name!! 

For those of you single folks out there, here's a piece of advice.  NEVER say or even think to yourself that you're glad you don't have a particular last name.  It's VERY dangerous territory!! Here's what I remember about the email I opened from muboldi@weber.edu 

"Maria- Hey, it's me, Marcos. I don't know how to tell you this and I really apologize, but I was in the computer lab the other day when Lisa was reading your email and I saw the part about you possibly wanting to take me to LD's Spring Formal. If you want me to go with you, it would be an honor. -Marcos"

Holy crap! What am I going to do now? By the time I read the email, I already had a date to Spring Formal - a blind date. Now I really felt bad. So I did what any freaked out girl would do in my situation...NOTHING. I left the poor guy totally hanging (AGAIN) and went to Spring Formal with the guy Lisa had arranged for me to take. But luck or fate or whatever you want to call it was on his side once again.  Although for the most part I would consider the date a success, it was horrible timing. My date had started falling hard for some other chick AFTER Lisa had talked to him about the dance. He didn't want to bail and look like a jerk so he came anyway.  By the time the dance rolled around, he pretty much felt like he was cheating on the girl he had recently started dating.  Oh the complexities of the dating world! My recap with Lisa sounded something like this.  "Well, it wasn't a horrible date, but it would've been nice to know he was attached at that point.  Seriously?? I HATE STUPID DANCES!! I should've just taken Marcos."

Marcos Says...

Yep! I remember bumping into Lisa at the computer lab!!! I don't make a habit of looking over someone's shoulder while they're at a computer, but I'm glad I did that time....MARIA should've taken me. Period. Peace!!!!

2 - Black Book, Spanish Class and Soccer Games

If you haven't read my first post, you'll want to read THIS first. The numbered posts are a sequence of events in mine and Marcos' early relationship. Start with #1 and read them in order. 

2 - Black Book, Spanish Class and Soccer Games

For those who may not know me, I have a somewhat conflicted personality. I am driven and ambitious, but super tender-hearted. I am direct to a point, but I often fret about what I have said or done after the fact wondering if I should've handled things differently. Overanalyzing is a major problem for me (but that's a different story)!!  After my first two encounters with Marcos, I found myself feeling badly about the whole situation. It wasn't so much a "I wish I had said yes to him" feeling, but rather a "I hope that wasn't too harsh" type of thing. The poor kid had two major things working against him. 1. He came off as a total player, which wasn't really my thing, and 2. I had just broken up with someone I had dated fairly seriously and wasn't at all looking for a relationship. Marcos went out with my sorority sister once but nothing came of it (the one who volunteered to go out with him after I completely shut him down).  Apparently his focus was still on me. But I was right to worry about our initial encounter damaging his ego a bit. After I turned him down, Marcos was convinced he'd been put in some sort of sorority "black book". It's not true, but it's what he believed.  And of course that's the story he insists on telling people to this day.    

Did I mention Marcos worked in the Union Building? Remember the building where I attended orchestra class three times a week?  Oh, and also the location of the Greek offices, where I spent a huge amount of time?  Yep.  That's where Marcos worked.  I thought I was going to DIE when I found out. Seriously??!!  Can't I just move on with my life?  

I basically ran into him several times a day. I have a difficult time getting over embarrassing situations like that (overanalyzing...remember?) so luckily Marcos is a much bigger person than I am. Despite being publicly humiliated and "black booked" 😉 by me, he continued to say hi or wave when he'd see me on campus. Before long, the awkwardness had mostly faded and we were becoming friends.

Winter quarter had started and I had a pretty difficult Spanish literature class that required A LOT of reading. I'm not exactly a great reader when it comes to Spanish. I can understand most things I read, but following an entire story - difficult literature - was not easy. Somehow I found the courage to ask Marcos for help me with my homework one day. I had read the story and answered the questions, but I wasn't sure I followed the sequence of everything. I asked him if he could read the story and check my answers before I turned in my paper. These were not short stories - or very interesting for that matter - but he was always willing to help me out.  Admittedly I took a little advantage of his generosity. I promise I did my own homework. But it was so much easier to have him read the story and make sure I hadn't completely missed something while I was reading. He still laughs about how he'd read this long story for me, translate and paraphrase it in English, and then I'd simply respond, "Okay, great!  That's what I thought it said. Thanks for your help!!" Poor guy!!! Surprisingly, I was clueless about the fact that he might still like me after all the torture I'd put him through.  But his kindness, generosity and contagious smile were starting to affect me more and more as we became close friends.  I looked forward to running into him and loved seeing him light up when I walked into the room.   

During the same quarter, several members of LaDianaeda and Pie Kappa Alpha (one of the fraternities on campus) put together a coed soccer team. The Pikes knew Marcos from around the UB and asked him to play on their team. I went to support my sorority sisters and was shocked when I realized Marcos was playing on their team.  Seriously?  How is it possible that this guy shows up EVERYWHERE I go??  The truth is I was there to cheer on my sorority sisters, but it was definitely a bonus getting to watch Marcos in action.  He's convinced I started to fall for him after witnessing his mad soccer skills.  😂  It was so fun seeing his competitive side, but it wasn't his "mad soccer skills" that were getting to me.  It was his heart.  

Marcos says...

I would do anything to spend time with MARIA, even if I had to read big, long literary works in Spanish.... for like 3 hours. And then just have her say, "Oh yeah. That's right. I got it. Thanks! Bye." 

Really??? Oh well. I really liked this girl!!  

Things really turned around when Maria saw me play soccer!! She thought I was a stallion!! Yea yeah!!!  I always joke that she was impressed when she saw me play. She says she wasn't, but deep inside I know she was!!! 

My official LaDianaeda sorority photo

Trying to balance classes, sorority activities, dating (not Marcos), work and family life...and LOVING every minute!! 

Marcos playing indoor soccer

Mad soccer skills... 😜

1- Our Story Begins

Some years we've made a big deal out of our anniversary.  Others have been simple but memorable.  Last year was rough.  Our anniversary came and went without so much as a blink.  It was painful.  And frightening.  Like all couples, the past 18 years have seen us through many ups and downs, but surviving 2016 was nothing short of a miracle.  As the date of our 18th wedding anniversary approaches, we are humbled and grateful as we reflect back on our relationship with new light and hope.  

Several years ago, I attempted to answer the question of how we met in story format.  We decided to do something similar this year to help us reflect once again on the early moments of our relationship.  Since the story is written from my perspective, I promised to give Marcos free reign to add any comments he wants without editing them.  YIKES!

1- OUR STORY BEGINS

Fall is my favorite season!  I love the anxiety and excitement of a new school year, especially when you're in college and have some say over your future - new classes, new teachers, new friends, new possibilities. My story with Marcos started as an average, ordinary Wednesday on campus in the Fall of 1997. I was diligently trekking up the stairs of the Union Building (UB) heading for my afternoon orchestra class. Weber State was in the process of remodeling the Browning Center (fine arts' building) so we got moved to the Ballroom of the UB for a few years (not exactly what you'd call good acoustics, but we made it work). I also happened to be a pledge of LaDianaeda, a local sorority at Weber State. Wednesday was "letters" day, when all Greeks on campus wore their letters and had meetings and activities. With violin in hand and my LD sweatshirt tied around my waist, I headed up the stairway of the UB. Halfway up, I heard someone yell out
"Hey, Maria!" 
I looked around trying to identifying the owner of the voice, but could not for the life of me see anyone I knew.  Sensing my frustration and rescuing me in the midst of discomfort, Sherice (a girl from my sorority) finally called out from the chairs below,
"Don't worry, Maria. It's just my friend Marcos."  
Huh?  Why in the world is this dude calling out my name?  
"Oh, okay.  Hey!  What's up?" 
I waved, gave an awkward half-grin and walked to my class.
What the...what? That was weird.

Two days later, I was studying outside the Greek offices on the other side of the UB. Let me preface this by saying there were at least 50 other people hanging out or studying in the same area. And remember, I'm one of the new girls - I was still a pledge. My best friend, Lisa, was there but other than that, I was just getting to know most of these people. I didn't notice as Marcos approached me and leaned on the arm of my chair.  I turned to see who was there just in time to hear,
"Hey baby! You want to go out sometime?" 
*Blush* Who is this guy?  Seriously!! How embarrassing. How many people just heard that lame come-on? 
I attempted to hide my face, which I'm guessing resembled a tomato at that point, while I muttered,
"Um, no thanks.  I'm good." 
 Persisting despite my obvious humiliation, he continues,
"Okay, yeah.  I totally get it. You don't even know me. But you know Sherice. She's in your sorority. We could double with Sherice and her boyfriend, Danny, sometime."
With a look of complete shock on my face, I manage to somehow say no once again.

Sensing an opportunity, one of my sorority sisters quickly slips into the conversation and blurts out,
"I'll go out with you!" 
Oh my heck!! Could this moment be any more public?

Marcos Says...

Yes!!!  This is pretty much how it happened!  I saw a beautiful girl that I wanted to meet and I just went for it!  Nuts right???  But when you like someone, who cares??

Letters' Day

A typical Wednesday hanging with Lisa

LaDianaeda

Just to give you an idea of the number of people hanging around the Greek offices when Marcos decided to make his move (plus there were people from other sororities and fraternities everywhere)

Mr Rico Suave himself!!