Valen…what?

It’s Valentine’s Day.  There’s no candles lit, no chocolates to eat, and certainly no diamonds dripping from a Tiffany & Co. box.  It’s Friday.  The kids have school, our “other mother” is away on a trip, and so our son is in his back up daycare.  There are paper valentines to pack, suckers to insert, clothes to get on, all kinds of things that must be done in preparation for a normal day.  Because that’s what Valentine’s Day is.  It’s a day we don’t celebrate in our house, except to say, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”.  Because we don’t want to promote the ideal that we celebrate love once a year.  I want my kids to know that real love doesn’t just happen on Valentine’s Day.  Real love happens on a Tuesday in August, when you’re not feeling well, and you’re trying to get the laundry off the line and a rainstorm breaks out and someone comes out to help you.  That’s love.  Real love happens at 2:40 in the morning, when one of your kids comes down in tears and, trying to tell you that they aren’t feeling well, vomits in your face.  You roll over, guide them to the toilet, give everyone a shower, and get them a puke bucket and put them back to bed.  That’s real love.
Today, I had to call in sick.  I wasn’t able to go to work, or to see A1 with her stash of Valentine’s Candy, or all the kids as they celebrated.  Today, I had to do a few things I’m not really good at.
First, I had to stay home.  I don’t like to be cooped up in the house alone.  But sometimes, it’s necessary.  Second, I had to take care of myself.  The whole reason I had to call in is because I spent lots of time not caring for myself, and that was’t very responsible.  And so, on a day where everyone is seemingly snuggling together on a sofa in front of a fireplace, or hugging and canoodling, or proposing or being proposed to, I spent the day on the couch, alone.  I rested and stared at a pile of laundry that was whispering my name.  I could not answer it.  I could barely speak.  I wanted to do a million things.  The dishes, the laundry, organize my office, scan documents, balance the checkbook… but it was impossible on this day.  I was only able to sleep and drink water.  And somehow, it was enough.  To just stop and love myself.  To breathe without anyone needing anything from me.  To just be.
It wasn’t what I really wanted for Valentine’s Day, it certainly wasn’t what anyone in my family wanted.  But it was what was necessary for me and everyone around me.
And my valentine?  He was thinking of me, caring for me, nurturing me from far away.  While he went out of town for work, he didn’t just focus on himself.  He was careful to check in on me.  And that was the only valentine I needed.  Of course, he showed up with a card and some soup, but it was totally unnecessary.  Because he had already shown me how much he loved me, just by caring.  And sometimes, love is taking care of yourself.  It’s making sure you have taken care of your body and your mind by getting enough rest, and blocking time to meditate and reduce stress in other ways.  Love is taking care of your family, by taking care of yourself first, and sometimes, love is learning how to do that, so you don’t feel guilty when it is absolutely necessary.

And that’s what I want our kids to know, to see.  That it isn’t because it was February 14th that I took care of myself, or that he took care of me.  It was because he really loves me that he showed it, and I’m learning to love myself in a healthy way.  That’s what love looks like.