It’s Valentine’s Day.
I would normally eschew this day out of a commitment to my
friends. I have several single friends; having been formerly single, I know too
well how awful this craptacular Hallmark holiday can make a single girl feel.
It SUCKS. Even as a married woman, I
really don’t care about celebrating this day, although every year, David makes
it lovely.
He normally makes a wonderful dinner, we exchange cards, and
it’s a very nice evening. We have never gone out on a date for V-Day, and I do
not feel the slightest regret for that. David hates waiting in line, I don’t
like over-extended wait staff, and neither of us enjoy spending money on
something that we can cook for ourselves. We’re very “Grumpy Old Men” in that
regards.
I can see us like that. I’ll probably look like Walter
Matthau in drag by the time I’m 70, and David will look like Buddy Hackett…we
can sit on the front porch, drink lemonade, and gripe about stupid made-up
reasons to waste money we don’t have. There’s your mental image for the day!
In all seriousness, though, it’s a day where Facebook is
FILLED with gooey sentiments about significant others. It’s a day where I want
to call my single friends and tell them that it will pass…that God has a plan…that
they’ll be okay…but I don’t want to step on toes, so I’m not calling them…but I
am praying for them. It’s a brutal day that doesn’t deserve much attention.
On the other hand, it’s a day where I woke up and realized
that I totally read the clock wrong…that in my semi-sleep-deprived state, that
I asked my husband to take a 7:00 am feeding, not realizing that it would make
him an hour late for work…and where he didn’t complain; he fed our little one,
took an hour of vacation, and went into work at the wrong time. It wasn’t until
I sat up (as the front door closed) that I realized what time it actually was,
and that the sun was out.
I wound up with 2 hours of sleep that I suppose I needed…but
so does he.
He feeds, changes, and cuddles our Little Guy.
He doesn’t complain.
I know he (and I) could sleep for a week if given the chance…but
again, he doesn’t complain.
The men in our families don’t have the greatest track record
for taking care of babies. Although my bio dad is pretty out of the picture,
based on most of his attitudes, I don’t envision him changing a diaper. The
guys in David’s family are the same way—it’s kind of a “cultural” thing. But invent
in my short venture as a “stay-at-home-mom,” I can tell you that moms need
help. (Interjection: Can I just say that changing a diaper is not "woman's work?" That feeding your baby is not just up to your wife? The measure of a man is determined by a lot of things--caring for your children is part of that. Guys that don't pitch in aren't men at all. I think that mentality is antiquated and disrespectful.) Doing this alone would be so hard—single moms deserve SUCH respect! I don’t
know how they do it, much less, moms of multiples or moms with more than one
small child at home. I’m so impressed by my friends!!!
It’s the fact that David is a hands-on dad that blows my
mind…that he obviously loves this Little Guy with all of his heart, and in
spite of our occasional disagreements, he loves me, too.
So, it’s Valentine’s Day.
With one hand, I will join my single sisters in solidarity
to state that this day is stupid.
On the other hand, I will stand with my married girls, and I
will praise my husband at the “city gates” of my blog.
It’s a far different V-Day than any other that I’ve had…I’m
sleep-deprived, my house is finally starting to emerge from my month-long
absence, the bills are overflowing, and I couldn’t care less. There’s a husband
coming home soon; my mom will be here today, my sister is coming over tonight;
and there is the most perfect little reflection of both David and myself,
sitting on the couch next to me, waving his arms, opening his eyes, and showing
me that the love of a parent is immeasurable.
It’s a day that Hallmark couldn’t even dream of putting into
words…
It’s a perfect day…
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