My Valentine

This year's Valentine's Day was not filled with sweeping romantic plans or even a night out, but it was lovely all the same. We had an offer from a good friend to come over and watch EJ for the evening so we could go out to dinner or a movie, but then the President of the United States decided to come home to celebrate his Valentine's Day at his home a block away**, and with the lockdown security, we became concerned that our friend wouldn't be able to a) find a place even remotely nearby to park and b) get past the police and secret service guarding our street once she did make it here.

With this in mind, we kicked around the idea of just leaving town for a night and dropping the kiddo off at her grandparent's place for a sleepover, but we couldn't find a hotel or B&B that seemed worth the effort for the price. I know her grandparents were disappointed, but on a grad school budget, any hotel stay has to be pretty cost-effective to be a possibility.

In the end, though, it wasn't the security chaos or the lack of accommodations that forced a low-key event on us, but rather, it was illness---persistent, merry-go-round, no one knows which member of our little family will have it next, respiratory illness, to be precise. Mike, the third one to catch the crud, came home from the student clinic on Friday with a prescription for antibiotics. and a diagnosis of "atypical pneumonia." He went back to the doc on Monday and was told that his illness probably wasn't pneumonia (thank goodness), but his cough is still shaking the house down in a way that is downright frightening, so you can imagine how sick he was on his first visit.

Ah, the romance. You can feel it, right?

Honestly, though, the day was sweet just as it was. We woke up early and exchanged small valentine presents. Mike isn't a chocolate fiend, but I saw a heart-shaped box of dark chocolates that looked like his style the other day, so I bought it for him. I have never purchased a heart-shaped box for anyone, nor have I received one (that I remember). Mike took the initiative to buy EJ a little valentine from the two of us, since she is almost always with me when I'm shopping, making it harder to slip something past her curious eye. When Mike unveiled our valentine for EJ, I had to smile---it was a little Snoopy doll (one of her new favorites) holding a tiny heart-shaped box. EJ was thrilled, and equally happy to give her daddy his "matching box" that, according to her, she "picked out and bought for [Mike] myself." Then Mike brought out a little something for me, and wouldn't you know it, it was a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Even as sick as he was, Mike had gone the extra mile by opening the box, taking out all of the chocolates that I don't like, and replacing them with extras of my favorites. He is a sweetheart, there is no denying it!

The whole exchange made me chuckle, because without any planning, we had become the three bears of Valentine's Day, with Mike holding the biggest box, me the medium, and EJ the tiny one that, for her, was "just right."

In addition to the chocolates, I purchased some green tea and some vanilla paste (for his homemade yogurt) for Mike earlier in the week, but his cough was so bad the day that I brought them home that I gave him the tea straight-away, then figured I might as well reveal the vanilla paste as well. He made yogurt with the paste, and got to enjoy some on Valentine's Day, so I suppose that counts for timeliness, after all.

He also got me a little something extra---a beautiful, red leather journal with a small heart embossed on the front. Inside, where the title page reads "Il Mio Diario," he wrote, "Kori's Little Book of Self-Love." I held back tears as I read it, because, once again, it showed me how well he listens to me, and how much he thinks about what I'm needing, even when I am not. Lately, I have been feeling down about my accomplishments, my abilities, etc. In my day-to-day life, I don't have much concrete stuff to point to and say, "yes, I did that, I am a success." In the past few weeks, I've committed more accidents than usual, retwisting my ankle, driving our brand-new car into our parking gate hook (leaving a six-foot gash/dent down the side and breaking the tail-light), etc. The house never feels clean, there is always clutter, the laundry is always piling up, etc. I've gained weight, I'm not feeling well, etc. My school work is actually picking up pace now, but for awhile, I felt like I was just stumbling upon delay after delay. I'd call this season of my life the doldrums---I'm not in a storm, but I feel like I'm not getting anywhere, and I can't figure it out, because I'm working harder than ever. I'm guessing this is pretty common among multitasking moms.

Mike and I have both realized that, with all of this going on, the self-dialogue in my head is not running nearly as positive as it needs to be. Of course there are accomplishments in my life, I just can't see them the way I should, because my focus is in the wrong place. It is like a negative-thought snowball rolling downhill, and I need to change it. The little book Mike bought me is a place for me to start writing down what I'm grateful for, what I've enjoyed in a day, what I've accomplished (even if it is small), what I have to look forward to---to change that snowball to something more productive and peaceful. Essentially, it is heart-medicine---heart-medicine that I can give myself a little at a time as I begin, then in greater abundance as I become more in the habit. What more could a gal ask for from her Valentine?

**For those who really want a visual of how close we live, I'm just going to put the Obama's address out there (5046 S. Greenwood Avenue, 60615) and our approximate address (we live on the 5100 block of S. Greenwood Avenue, 60615) and you can Google Map your heart out using the "get directions" tool.