Okay. So today’s Valentine’s Day. We all know what happens on Valentine’s Day, right? People wear clothing with hearts all over it, buy flowers for way too much money, eat chocolate, go out to eat, get engaged, exchange expensive gifts and have sex. Don’t act like you weren’t aware of the last one. I’m married. This ain’t my first rodeo. : )
So the other day the kiddos and I were at Target. (Aaahhhh, Target.) We were in the ‘intimates’ section—see above list of V-Day activities if you’re not sure why. Anyway, I was there with my baby boy in the cart and my two little girls looking at all the ‘pretty dresses’ when a young-ish couple walked by. The girl gave me kind of an odd look and I heard her say something to her boyfriend or whatever he was that it was “weird to shop for sex clothes with your kids.”
Excuse me????!!!
My first reaction was embarrassment and self-doubt. Was it some kind of sick that I was here in this section with my kids? Was I scarring them for life? Did it make me look like some kind of…hussy to be doing what I was doing?
That’s when the rage started creeping in.
Who the h@#% does that girl think she is? When does she think would be a better time to be here? As it was, getting all of us bathed and presentable enough to go to the Synagogue of Tarjay was hard enough! Should I have left my kids at home while I shopped? Gotten a babysitter so that I didn’t embarrass her with my scandalous activities? Way to judge, bimbo. Like you have a clue. (Sorry. I was really mad)
Does she think this is my idea of a good time? When I pictured myself six years ago planning my future Valentine’s Days, does she think I was shopping at Target for lingerie with my kids?! (No offense to Target, but let’s be honest. If I could afford Victoria ’s little stash of Secrets, I would.)
So here’s the deal girlie. I have three kids. And I don’t just have three kids—I have had three kids. My sweet and wonderful husband has been with me through roughly 26 months of pregnancy. Backrubs, swollen ankles, vomiting, heartburn, stretch marks, hormones, aversions to food, and weight gain that makes me cringe to think about. He’s a wonderful man.
He has been through three childbirths. Down there. Where even I would never want to be. This includes water breaking, the ‘pop’ of an epidural needle, more vomiting, more hormones, screaming in pain, and the worried whisper that I really hope I don’t poop on the doctor. (I didn’t) : ) This man is my best friend and my lover. He makes me laugh more than any other person in the world and there is no one I would rather spend time with. No one.
Isn’t it better that my daughters know that I want to do something special for my husband? Granted, once Judah gets a bit older it would be odd to take him with me, but what’s wrong with showing my daughters how fun it can be to be married? To spend their life with someone who is happy to share his life with them? That even though they may have had babies and their bodies will never look the same, he still desires his wife because she is his other half? I don’t think that’s a bad lesson to learn.
So judge away girlie. I hope you know one day the thrill of love like I have from a man that is truly with me in better and worse. Good luck. : )
I laughed, I agreed, I concluded you're great :) Excellent post!!
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