Valentine’s Day is fluttering up fast and I’m having fun watching my daughters gear up for the big day. It’s all about romance and chocolate and ooey-gooey cards. And what, you may wonder, will their mother be doing on Valentine’s Day?
Well, while Stephanie is off and about town romancing her guy, Joe and I will be puppy sitting McGee, her miniature Dachshund. We will also be playing chauffeur/chaperon for Christina and her beau.
So why am I smiling? Because I learned a long time ago that while Valentine’s Day is a nice little holiday, the real heart of Valentine mojo is created while we aren’t paying attention. It sprouts on happy days and sad days and boring days and busy days; it blooms when we’re talking about our kids and writing up the grocery list and bickering about whose turn it is to let the dogs out. Real Valentine mojo is alive and growing daily. We celebrate it every time we sneak a quiet moment or hug in the kitchen with family chaos swirling about.
As it happens, Joe and I met on February 9, 1979, a mere five days before Valentine’s Day. We always remember the anniversary of the day we met and this year I woke up to find a homemade card and a vase full of flowers. It was a wonderful surprise at 5 a.m. When Christina saw the card and flowers she asked me about them and I explained. Her horrified response: “Daddy did something romantic? OMG I’m going to be sick!”
With hands over my heart I told her my fervent prayer is that some day she will be lucky enough to be married to a man who, after 31 years, not only remembers the day they met, but does something so romantic that her kids become nauseated and hurl chunks all over her shoes. She offered me a teenage eye roll and an appreciative smirk; I love it when we bond.
The point is, Valentine’s Day, even though it offers an excuse to gorge on chocolate, still comes up as Love Lite. The real mojo is what gets us through the ordinary days, and on really special occasions, prompts our teenagers to puke.
Now that’s mojo.
Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all!