Wednesday, February 16, 2011


I knew I was going to be alone on Valentine's Day (ok, technically I wasn't alone because the kids were here...but my husband was NOT here, and it was Valentine's Day.)  This business trip wasn't a surprise.  He goes to HOU every month.  I knew it was coming.  We had coordinated our calendars together in January and I was well aware that this trip couldn't be fit in anywhere else.  (especially considering the fact that there is also a birthday and an anniversary all crammed into the same 28 days!)

I tried to be prepared in every possible way so that I would not be pathetic on Valentine's Day.  

We went out for a great pre-Valentine's date on Friday night to my NEW FAVORITE restaurant...

The kids and I made sugar cookies on Monday night and delivered them to 3 or 4 families that we love. 

We watched movies together.  

But despite my best efforts, I was still totally pathetic.  Self induced, but pathetic nonetheless...ugh!  Not enough sleep, too many estrogen movies, and too much time alone in my head.  UGH!

But after 48 hours of "mists of darkness," my clairty came back last night...and so did my husband!  
AND he brought FLOWERS!  Typically, he doesn't do flowers.  (Mostly because I told him when we were first married that I don't really like to get flowers.  I LOVE looking at them and I LOVE the way they smell, but the thought of someone spending that much money on something that I'm just going to have to watch die a slow death on my table is way too sad for me.)  So, in the past 17 years, I can count on one hand the number of times he's brought flowers home.  (again...that was totally my idea, not his)

But last night, he did it anyway.  And I LOVED that beautiful bouquet of flowers.  It was the perfect end to a very long 2 days.  And this morning when I got up and saw it there on the table, it reminded me that I might have more pathetic days, but they don't last forever.  And if you get through the pathetic part, there's always some unexpected joy at the end. 

And it's possible that I might be secretly converted to the idea of receiving flowers after all. 

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