Married or single, Valentine’s Day has high flop potential.
The expectations are back-breaking, the babysitters can get expensive, and who knows if the LBD still fits from five years ago?
Besides, it’s not even a “real” holiday. This year, it falls on a Wednesday, which means the day’s schedule will go on just like usual. But alas, Hallmark has made monsters out of us, myself included.
Who doesn’t secretly pine for the candlelit dinner and a glass of fancy wine?
For the compliments by the fireside or the secretly-planned getaway? And dang it, I’d love nothing more than to sausage myself into that dress collecting dust in the closet!
As it turns out, romance isn’t dead just because he put a ring on it. And it’s not lost because there seem to be demanding, little people running the household.
If getting out of the house feels harder than climbing Mount Everest this year, here’s a whole week of budget-friendly ideas to bring you closer to your spouse.
The stars aligned.
You and your tot finally finished the last day of medicine drops for that eye funk that cost you two pallets of eye shadow and a tube of mascara. And non-contagion means freedom!
You got the sitter days in advance.
Tonight’s the big night and you’ll make it happen—even if it means keeping your skinny jeans closed with a hair band looped through the button hole.
It took an act of God, but it was worth it. You're out of the house!
You finally sit down together and you know that moment—you look into your guy’s eyes and you seriously have to concentrate on topics to talk about.
Your brain’s gone all mama, and the problem is that a full-grown man is peering across the table from you. Stringing together interesting, big-people sentences feels like a task equal to earning the Nobel Peace Prize.
But have no fear, pretty mama. Here are five things you should talk about on date night:
Here we are. Face hidden beneath my straw hat, tiny dots of sun sneak through the spaces of the finely woven material. I'm sprawled on my back, half-daydreaming and eyelids heavy, when I feel his hand rest on my arm. It took a couple of days for my husband and I to discover our old "relaxed" selves, but we're here now. Present. Counting no time except beats between each wave lapping the shoreline. This is our view for the day and I'm convinced it's a glimpse of heaven.
We've discussed stress together in the past. We've explored topics like our brain chemistry, families, prayer tips, symptoms of stress, and stress eating. This time, I'm taking a different angle, so here are three (over-looked) reasons that you need to get away...
It’s spring break here in Wilmington and we’re entering week three (year-round schedule). Though I always dread the first few days of our routine change - the boys bickering over games, taking turns, and having constant "fairness" disputes - by the end we’re in sync, and I hate to send them back to class.
This time, the transition looks different. As our kids hit the books, my husband and I will slip away to celebrate our first ten years together. A gaggle of incoming family will be in charge at the Gemelli house so that a couple of tired parents can find rest under a palm tree or two.
Like many of you, the majority of my time is spent as mom, wife, and whatever else is asked of me. Over the years, it’s been easy to lose sight of the simple woman I’ve always been - a daydreaming daughter of God, enthralled with the dialed-down, simple life that used to come naturally.
Returning to her is a purposeful practice that I’ve adopted over the years. As I pack my suitcase and envision my impending escape from responsibility, I remember the words of April Lakata Cao. Her wind-through-the-hair reminder is one that I come back to time and time again. It's about the little things imprinted in our memories, the smells, the freedom, the mistakes, and living to the full.
Here’s hoping that you’ll be inspired to spend time with the you who gets lost in the shuffle too.
Light up the room,
When I was nineteen I had a jacked-up Jeep with big tires. I bought it that way, trading in my sensible, tan, automatic Corolla for a stick-shift Wrangler. To this day I don’t know what possessed me, but I drove that green monster off the lot, lurching and stalling along the way. (Did I mention I had no idea how to drive a stick?)
I never made it home. I ran out of gas on a hill and panicked when I couldn’t figure out how to stop from rolling backwards.
How often do we climb a mountain only to forget where we came from?
M.S. in Marriage and Family Therapy. Earns Crossfit participation trophies. Disaster cook. Enthusiastic wife. #Boymom. Clutches her faith, not her pearls.