To really understand my feelings about Valentine's Day, you would first have to understand my feelings about romance. And that is a tricky thing to explain. In high school I was lovingly? jokingly? nicknamed "The Beast". My friends decided that the song "Maneater" could be used as the theme for my life. By the time I had gotten to college I had relaxed a little bit, and was slightly more comfortable with the whole idea that boys didn't actually have cooties. I am quite certain that any male that ever tried to do something that would fall under the category of "romantic" received a swift jab to the stomach. I'm sorry, but apparently hitting is my response mechanism to what would make most girls swoon.
This hitting comes from a good place though, it's not done out of malice or a desire to actually hurt the recipient. I've just never been comfortable with gooshy smooshy smoochy woochy and so when anything starts to approach googly-eyed-ness I react violently.
This is why when Devin proposed to me, an event typically regarded as one of the most romantic of a woman's life, I did all sorts of things wrong. I did not let him kneel. I would not look him in the eye. I would not let him give his little prepared speech. And when he did finally manage to ask, I said, "Ok" and then I hit him in the stomach. It's a reflex.
I am getting better though, this year he did bring home some chocolate for me and I said thank you. One year he brought me flowers and I said thank you. No hitting.
But I've never done anything for him. Let's just say I don't know how. For most of my life I don't think I really celebrated Valentine's Day at all. I have been on two dates on Valentine's Day, one was to a basketball game, and one was to a hockey game. Good times. Then one year a friend of mine suggested we make cards for our friends. I desperately needed some girl time (Hallie had just been born and it was the middle of winter) so she came over and we spent the afternoon making cards. I must have really needed the girl time, because that afternoon is one of my favorite memories, and so to sort of celebrate that I make cards for the girls in my life that I really love and (cough, cough) send them to them.
I do love my mister, and he is confident enough in that that he doesn't need me to go crazy over him on Valentine's Day. Which is good, because he would more likely end up with a bruised stomach than anything else if I did try.
Valentine's Day 2009 - Florida with my girls.
Devin stayed home with Hallie.
Now that's what I call Valentine's Day!