We aren’t really Valentine’s kind of people around here. If you know my beau in real life, you may be extremely surprised by this based on his naturally romantic demeanour (um, not).
Either way, I don’t expect a huge celebration on Valentine’s day and I’m not disappointed, nor do I feel hard done by, when I don’t get one. And it’s a good thing that I feel this way because history shows, when we do try to “do” Valentine’s day? It’s bad news. One year it resulted in rotten caesar salad at one of our favourite little restaurants where the Dude had so sneakily made reservations for two (ahem, one week before Valentine’s day, I said “make reservations at Cafe Amore for next week”). Another year, it resulted in both he and I buying each other the exact same gift. Which wouldn’t necessarily be so bad. Except that what I got him was for him. So what he got me? Also for him. This is a family friendly blog so I won’t go further than to say that what we purchased each other was something that rhymes with bonjerie. At least we know we have the same taste since we both bought the same piece.
With these things considered, it didn’t take us long into our marriage to figure out that we just don’t do Valentine’s day. Which is fine. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t throw out chocolate or flowers if they came my way, but I’m good without them, too. And since I knew the husband likely wouldn’t deliver, I took things into my own hands last Tuesday, and had a date with the BFF where I treated myself to a Valentine’s day poutine and bag of mini reese pb cups. Good enough for me.
Then I topped off Valentine’s day by making a meal that was far below the husband’s expectations. Minestrone soup. Without meat. With spinach. Gasp. How could I?
But thankfully, this year, the precious little blessing that will soon be joining our family saved the day and made Valentine’s Day something to remember, after all.
After Blessing #1 was tucked into bed, Ev and I curled up on the couch to finish the last few episodes of Friday Night Lights and snack on our (my) nightly bowl of
melted butter popcorn. And while we were doing so, the hubby had his hands around my tummy and felt, for the first time, those sweet kicks of his unborn baby. Looks like Baby #2 wanted to make sure the day was special, even if we failed.