How I Met My Husband

Parenting is hard, and a loyal, devoted partner can make all the difference. If you’re lucky enough to have a significant other, be thankful. If you’re still looking, be patient; the right person will come when you least expect it.

I used to hear some variation of that every time I mentioned I had never had a boyfriend. Every time, I would roll my eyes (on the inside; I’m not rude). Not again. But I have to say it’s 100% true. I met my husband at a “BBQ & Double Kegger,” as advertised by my younger brother; however, it was actually a welcome back party (FOR ME) from my year abroad in Paris. I had spent the last academic school year as an au pair, and let me tell you, I was ready to see my friends and eat some MEXICAN FOOD.

My brother asked me over Skype if he could invite a few friends to said party. Now, not all of you know me well, but it is VERY Jacque-esque to plan my own welcome back party over Skype, weeks before I actually come home (I had even booked my teeth cleaning appointment via email a couple of months before).  I gave my brother the approval for three specific friends because he was a little crazier than I was, and I didn’t want my wine drinking, heel wearing friends to be bothered by his crazy-friend-antics. So, via Skype, my brother was like, “Oh ya for sure. Three people. No problem.” Oh how his innocent face belied the truth. Well his THREE people turned into THIRTY with a “Double Kegger & BBQ.”

As much as I was very upset at the time, I thank him every day now because I met my husband that night.

I was 22, jet lagged, and fumbling through my English after a year of speaking French. I saw a crowd of guys outside, through the glass french doors, playing beer pong in jeans and hoodies. I’m a good host, so I go outside to introduce myself and see if anyone needs a beverage (clearly, my brother had that handled, but it was the polite thing to do).

I’m making my rounds (through the mass of 30 people in my parent’s backyard), and I walk up to the pong table, where there are two of the BIGGEST men you’ve ever met in your life (and if you know my husband and his brother, I’m not exaggerating. The only person bigger than them is Hafthor Björnsson, more commonly known as “The Mountain.”) I approach the larger one first, “Hi, I’m Jacque. What’s your name?”

“I’m Shrek.”

“I’m sorry?”

With a giant grin on his face and rosy cheeks hinting at inebriation, he puts out his hand to shake mine. “Shrek.”

I clasp his bear like paw, “Um, how do you spell that?”

“Well my real name is Yevgeniy.”

I hold my eyebrows in place with great effort, as to not display the surprise fired off by my synapses, and I return his smile, “Shrek it is.”

We dated for a couple of months before things became Facebook official, and you want to know what I was MOST excited about? Some of you may say, “Free dinners,” “Valentine’s Day presents,” “a reliable smooch on New Year’s Eve.” Not for me. I was ecstatic about Halloween. Nothing says true love like themed Halloween costumes! And with a nickname like Shrek, we could be Shrek and Fiona forever 😍.

Let’s just say Yev (the compromise between Yevgeniy and Shrek) was initially skeptical. I couldn’t understand why he was so resistant to dressing up for Halloween. I mean, if you can’t match your outfits, why even be together? Once I realized our little problem was simply that costumes don’t come in ogre sizes, I happily volunteered to make his outfit that year and every year after!