It was supposed to be about how he asked me to go kayaking with him and a group of friends on Capitol Lake in Olympia, WA.
About how I told him I was planning to go out to a movie with my friends, but that I'd think about it.
About how I agreed to go, but then, when he came to pick me up, how I sat in the back seat of the car and let him chauffeur me to our destination.
How I ignored him at first.
How I'd never been in a kayak before and didn't have a clue how to steer it.
How he stayed behind to help me and to keep me company on the gruelling voyage across the lake.
How, when we got out of our kayaks to rest on an island, I promptly sat in goose poop.
No, this post is about a different kind of Valentine's Day ... fast forward fourteen years.
It's about how I forgot it was Valentine's Day until I woke up to find tulips on the counter with a card and a chocolate bar from the DHS.
How I forgot to get him anything.
How we all have bad colds.
How Sophie keeps trying to climb on the baby and kiss her with snot dripping from her nose.
How Sophie threw up on my bed, narrowly missing the baby whose head ended up two inches from the puke puddle.
How our toilet is clogged.
How our minivan is having engine trouble.
How I had a dream about buying my dad a $526 vase with fake flowers in it and woke up in a cold sweat.
How my four-year-old and two-year-old girls were so busy tormenting each other this morning that I had to ban them from TV.
How these same girls threw temper tantrums about not being allowed to watch TV, and how, at one point, I had all three little girls screaming simultaneously for ten minutes, in which period I considered whether or not I should apply for early retirement from motherhood.
How I'm wondering if this is the best, or possibly the worst, day of my life. Strangely, I can see it from both angles.
I'll choose the better angle:
I am blessed.
With five beautiful, lively children. (Specifically with two little girls who are finally playing nicely together. And a baby who is finally sleeping.)
A house to live in, clogged toilets and all.
And a persistent husband, who is as handsome and wonderful as he is dashing, and who loves me despite my occasional close encounters with snot, vomit and goose poop.
Happy Valentine's Day!
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