Where to begin? I'll start this way: my Valentine's Day didn't turn out a bit how I expected this year...and my expectations? They really weren't that high. All I wanted to do was sleep in a little bit (7:30 counts as sleeping in these days), make some sort of whimsical, heart-shaped breakfast, enjoy spending the day with my family, and fix something yummy and nice for dinner. See? That doesn't seem too terribly far reaching, does it?
What really happened was as follows: I got to sleep in a little bit, but that was the highlight of my day. Things pretty much go downhill from there. We ate heart-shaped French toast, which was yummy, exchanged gifts and cards, and then things got crazy. In the process of trying to get ready for the day, I had to entertain both of my children and get them dressed. Aidan put pennies down his bathroom sink. (I can only assume. He told me he put quarters in there, but those won't fit. He calls everything from a quarter to a penny to a Chuck E. Cheese token a quarter. The only thing I saw him with all morning was a couple of pennies.) John and I had an argument which left both of us on separate ends of the house, having hissy fits. Aidan stowed a couple of his poopie diapers in the cabinet where I keep my pots and pans. (They were bagged, hanging on the back door to go to the trash.) I picked up about every toy Aidan owns...you see how this goes.
By early afternoon, we were all so exhausted from doing chores and being angry at each other, that we each crashed in a separate location for a nap. When everybody woke up, it was 5:00 pm. So there was also no nice, homemade dinner. There was Carrabba's curbside, no longer hot, because it's on the other side of town.
What lesson do I learn from this? Nobody's perfect; no day can be perfect, not even a holiday intended to celebrate the ones we love.
"God is love, and the one who remains in love remains in God, and God remains in him." 1 John 4:16b