Just ☝🏼 more Sheffield

As I approached 30, I had pretty much accepted my fate as a lifetime bachelor. But for some reason (maybe a cosmic joke or a moment of hope), I decided to give online dating a try. That’s when I found her on Plenty of Fish. Her profile was hilarious—and her profile picture? She was wearing a wedding dress. Bold move. Naturally, I was intrigued. What really threw me, though, was that she asked me to call her. Like, on the phone. With our voices. I thought it was weird at first, but the moment we started talking, it just clicked. We talked for hours—actual hours—every single night. Between work and parenting, we didn’t meet in person for over a month, but those 30 or 40 days of nonstop phone calls built something real. When we finally met face to face, I knew instantly: I loved her. Our first date was at Burgatory (a name that felt appropriate for how nervous I was). It was the day after Christmas, and I was basically broke—but she didn’t care. Within six weeks, we were living together. And since then, we haven’t gone more than 72 hours without seeing each other. Turns out, the bachelor life didn’t stand a chance. Now, let me be clear—this wasn’t some fairy tale where everyone hugs and eats pancakes together on Day One. We both had kids. I had children. She had a child. And combining our families was... well, a journey. There were turf wars over bedrooms, passive-aggressive cereal choices, and early mornings where someone (me) would pretend to be asleep just to avoid World War III over who used someone else’s charger. The kids were suspicious, territorial, and occasionally united only by their joint hatred of our cooking. There were nights we’d lie awake wondering if we were crazy. If we were messing this up. If love was really enough. But slowly—so slowly—things began to shift. There was laughter. Inside jokes. Little moments where you’d catch one kid standing up for the other at school, or helping with a chore without being asked (a true miracle). We went from separate people trying to blend... to an actual family. Then, just when we thought our story was fully written, the universe threw us another plot twist: miracle children. Pregnancy wasn’t easy. We had doubts. We had losses. We had nights filled with tears and silence. But we held each other through it all. And eventually, we welcomed not one but two beautiful, chaotic, perfect little humans into our lives—who were loved fiercely by their siblings, each in their own way. One thing that always brought us together was football but as crazy as that sounds it was something we always looked forward to because we knew each week we’d all be together at a game. Laura will never admit it but football made our love for each other much stronger as a family. The baby years were a blur of diapers, noise machines, and figuring out how many cups of coffee a human body can legally consume. But through it all, our love kept growing. Stronger. Deeper. Quieter sometimes, but always present. Like the hum of a house full of people who belong to each other. Now? Our home is loud. Sometimes messy. Always full. We’re not the picture-perfect family. But we are a real one. One built from phone calls, compromise, chaos, and choice. A family with scar tissue, yes—but also with unshakable love. And to think—it all started with a woman in a wedding dress on a dating app. I didn’t just find her. I found everything. Her version may be slightly different but the ending will be the same and we can’t wait for you to share this story with us. See you at the alter. ~Deon~