I admit to having spent most of my life as a Valentine Day scrooge. As a result of a few bad youthful memories, I hated this most red and floral of holidays. It was a commercialized mess that made people believe in a romantic love that didn’t exist. I wore black every year from the time I can remember.
Then I fell in love with Bray. While this did not make me adore the holiday, it did make me less hostile toward it. In fact, I first actually “fell in love” with him on Valentine’s Day 2004 while listening to him talk about his nieces over our first Valentine’s Day dinner, which conveniently happened to fall on a Saturday. We still don’t partake in $100 overpriced roses or $200 overpriced dinners but we exchange cards and do something a little special during the day.
Then I had kids. While this did not cause me to morph into a three-heart-headed Valentine’s monster, it has further instilled in me a mild appreciation for the holiday. We got special cards and books for the kiddos. I had sweet picture cards made for daddy and grandparents. I wore red because I had to take them to their Valentine’s party at school complete with party food and little colored Valentine’s cards. I think I can appreciate the day most at the two year old level – where it really is about love generally and not some overly-sensationalized/romanticized dramatization of the thing.
This morning, I felt pretty full of love. I had the absolute dreamiest husband to roll over and kiss this morning after getting in from boot camp. I had the most adorable kids roll out of bed with their rosy cheeks and spiky hair and excitement about their cards and the party at school. I could appreciate that it was nice to take a moment to tell God thank you for all the love in my life from family and friends. I was grateful that I was reminded to tell Bray more than once today how much I loved him. And after all this time since that first Valentine’s dinner, I still feel pretty mushy about him. And I was thankful that I could stop being irritated by my currently very disobedient 2 year old toddlers (the post about the horror of the big kid bed conversion this weekend is coming this week, but I didn’t want to post THAT on V-day) to see what wonders and miracles and delights they are, even though they’re very much two 🙂