While prematurity is no picnic, the Babby's early arrival did do me one favor. Being born not on March 30, but on February, she effectively shoved aside all the usual significance of Valentine's Day and made it a family day instead. So much so that when people online and in life mention February 14 to me, I immediately think How sweet that they want to celebrate the Babby's birthday! Only for a second, though. Then I remember, oh right, Valentine's Day.
A day that is particularly easy for me to forget about because when God was handing out husbands, he didn't give me a particularly romantic one.
Which is okay. Truly. Because when God was handing out wives, the one he gave to the BabbyDaddy (me) is not particularly romantic, either. Not to mention, not nearly affectionate enough and entirely unable to make it through most shows of affection, loving conversations, or whispered sweet nothings without dissolving into hysterics.
So the lack of romance in my life? Is probably my own fault for my inability to have someone act romantically toward me without my interjecting uncontrolled laughter.
Romance in movies? Looks lovely. In theory.
In the past, around Valentine's Day and my birthday, I imagined that I might just be surprised during my workday with an unexpected bouquet or be whisked off to an impromptu - but secretly planned - dinner at a fancier-than-usual restaurant. Then I got real. That's not what I married. It's not like those things happened once upon a time and stopped happening after the ring. It's just not the BabbyDaddy's style.
If I want some flowers, I have to buy them my own darn self. A dinner date? If I really wanted it, I'd have to plan it myself. And you know what? I'm pretty much okay with that. I love the BabbyDaddy to death. Everyone has their own love language, and the BabbyDaddy doesn't speak Valentine's Day. (He does, however, speak scooping the cat boxes, helping me paint everything to within an inch of its life, washing up, and etc.)
I guess I don't speak Valentine's Day, either, since it's not like I have a romantic hot night out secretly under wraps for February 14. Sorry!
When the Babby came along and turned Valentine's Day into not just a birthday, but also a day of finger finger painted cards, chalky candies, daycare parties, and so on, the pressure was off. To all the romantic couples out there, enjoy your champagne dipped strawberries and candlelit evenings. I'll be the one enjoying discounted chocolates on February 15!
P.S. - Here's a picture of the BabbyDaddy and yours truly from waaaay back in the day. I swear I am not picking my nose. Not that he would have cared.