Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays where many of us shake our head in confusion. I have expressed before my husband’s personal disdain for this “Hallmark Holiday,” and I don’t completely disagree with him. But having young kids, who are still wide-eyed and without cynicism, I find myself (and my husband) celebrating this day of love. And since my attempts at a special fudge failed miserably, I decided to not share a recipe today. So, to celebrate Valentine’s Day and spending that past two weeks hanging with sick kids at home, I have this to share:
To say that I love you would be the greatest understatement ever uttered. I thought I knew everything until you entered my life. I thought I understood love, sacrifice and joy until you all entered my life.
To my husband, we met when I was 18 and you were 25. I remember how scared my parents were when I first introduced you to them, as they feared I would give up my college education to be the young bride to some older Persian guy. And yet, ten years later, our paths crossed again and we quickly married. I didn’t understand commitment until I found us surviving our rocky times, sleepless nights, screaming babies and Top Ramen dinners. You might have yelled a bit too much, I know I was grumpy a bit too much. But, here we are heading into our 14th year of marriage loving each other and our family life.
To my Young Professor, you are my first born, my eldest child. All of my mistakes seem to fall on you, as I experimented with different parent techniques trying to teach you life’s lessons. You have always acted and spoken years ahead of you, and sometimes I forget that you are just my little boy. I love your sense of humor, your belly laugh and how you tear up when that sad song comes on in “The Polar Express” (even though you are almost twelve). You received your love of reading and ease with technology from me, your intestinal track is all your dad. You are an amazing boy and I fear the day you grow up and leave me, so I will hug you all the time and slobber your face with kisses even when you are 6 feet tall, so be prepared.
To my Middle Child, my pickle-lovin’-blankey-totin’-soup-eater, you make me laugh and cry at the same time. You were born a grumpy old man, but you have this infectious laughter and smile. Your enthusiasm and passion will get you far, we just need to spearhead it into a direction other than Mine Craft, football and playing with your friends. You melt my heart when you tell me that when you grow up, you want your house next to ours. You break my heart when you spit out your food proclaiming the meal before you was the worst thing you ever ate. Subtleness is not your strong suit, but I will continue to kiss you, no matter how many times you wipe them off your face!
To my sweet baby, my Princess, you are pure joy. Where the boys lack in never-ending affection, I know you will smother me hugs and kisses for the rest of my life. I always feared having a little girl, and now I thank God every night for blessing me with you. Your smile, laughter and random singing and chatter are the light of my life. I never owned a pink shirt until you were born. And now my closet is filled with pink in celebration of you. Having two older brothers has made you tough, but you kick their butt happily, in your pink frilly dress and pearls because you are still a girly girl. I take comfort knowing we will be BFFs when you are an adult on your own.
My dearest children, I thought I was alive until you entered my life. Now I can’t remember what life was like before you arrived. (I also haven’t known a good night sleep since before you were born, too!) Your dad and I live for those mornings where you all pile into our bed. I suppose could easily leave you darlings and go to work everyday to satisfy my personal dreams. But, I cherish my ability to stay home with you, to volunteer in your classes, to nurse you when you are home sick. I am living my dream. I hope you realize that the sacrifices your father and I have made to make this possible were worth it. That my being in your life full time was more important than expensive shoes, expensive cars and expensive vacations.
Now let’s hug and kiss and celebrate our love. But more importantly, pass Mommy all of your chocolate, please!
Happy Valentine’s Day!