Any parent knows that romance can be hard to come by. Long gone are the days of spontaneous dinners out, movies, lounging around just simply enjoying each other’s company. Throw a kid or three in the mix and you’ve got to deal with babysitters, the total cost of going out, schedules, sick kids throwing a wrench in the middle of things, and really, just plain exhaustion on the part of the parents. And for many (including us), add a live-in parent to the pot of chaos and moments alone are few and far between.
This past weekend was Valentine’s Day. Husband and I are not really into Valentine’s Day. It’s a Hallmark holiday, in our humble opinions. (But as long as people buy a certain brand of Valentine’s chocolate to express their love, that’s fine with us. Thanks for contributing to our retirement fund!)
We decided to “celebrate” the “holiday” anyway. We went out for breakfast at a tiny diner (without the kids!) that was once a railway car. There were 8 tables and a counter. We sat at a formica table across from each other, on the ripped vinyl seats. I enjoyed my stuffed french toast. He enjoyed his eggs and scrapple. Nothing like fried up left over pork snouts and cheeks to get the romance flowing! But we talked about our retirement plans – we’ve got 20+ years to go before that happens, but to sit and talk about the travelling we want to do together, where we’d like to live and the car we’d like to drive was romance in its purest mom and dad form. We even stopped at a car dealership after breakfast so my husband could drool over his dream corvette. Me, I’d rather have a Lexus. Of course all of that is based on us winning the Lottery.
We had plans to go out to the movies on Valentine’s Day – not to see Fifty Shades of Grey – but Kingsman with Collin Firth. Nothing like spies, conspiracies and explosions to get the romance going. Our plans were thwarted by snow, so we adapted. We made dinner, of course in the shape of a heart. Meat loaf. I mean heart loaf.
Yes, meat loaf in the shape of a heart. How romantic!
(But it was better than our Halloween meatloaf – which was feet loaf.)
We hunkered down for the night with the kids, watching the NBA Slam Dunk competition. Joy! (If this written word could drip sarcasm, this page would be soaked.) The kids love their sports and hubby is from Indiana, so watching basketball is a necessity. I, however, went to bed. And this is what I found on my pillow.
Sunday dawned with a few extra inches of snow in driveway, so husband and I decided to spend a romantic hour or two of togetherness shoveling the drive. It was -15 with the windchill. Blowing 50 mph gusts. But the sky was blue! Perfect for spending quality time together. I headed down to the bottom of the driveway, he started at the top. We met in the middle. It was our very own Lady and The Tramp moment, minus the spaghetti. We kissed when we met in the middle, but our faces where so frozen, neither of us felt it.
Sunday dinner was homemade pizza – hubby and I made the pies together, sipping our glasses of chianti. It was perfect. The 3 boys were in the next room and had built a fort out of every chair and pillow and blanket in the house and were trying to kill each other, as per usual.
And hubby could have gotten a little romance last night, if he hadn’t made his own pizza and covered it with anchovies.
Such is our life of romance. But we’ll take it where we can get it.