I don't love Valentines Day

It's no secret I'm not a fan of Valentines Day.

I thought maybe once I was married, I'd get more into it. I'm just not.

Maybe even less so now than before.

I mean seriously, come on - one day out of 365 to show my love and affection for someone? What about the other 364 days? They don't matter???

Anyone can go all out on one day. Anyone can be sure to express their love to someone if it's written on the calendar as a reminder.

Personally, it is those other 364 days that matter.

Flowers, candy, romantic dinners, and fabulous sex means nada if it's done because it's "supposed" to be. I'm sorry, but I'll never be the kind of woman wooed by one day out of the year.

Yep, it's the surprise flowers and sweet late-night dinners after the kids are in bed, and talks in front of the TV or in bed with little rugrats squished between us, the quick kisses while making breakfast, etc., etc., that does it for me. Because none of that is forced. None of that is designated to occur because Hallmark officiated it. That stuff is what real love is made of anyway.

Don't get me wrong. I'm trying not to create anti-Valentines little people. So I made obligatory heart-shaped eggs and heart-shaped sandwiches. We made chocolate covered strawberries and Valentines for one another.

And then we rushed off to the pediatrician with a gaping chin wound to be stitched up while my sweet boy screamed, "Momma, I need you! Momma, I'm stuck! I need help. I love you! Save me! I need you, Momma!" And I had to stifle back my own tears and was thoroughly traumatized, much like holding him down when they drew blood intravenously 18 months ago.

Oh my gosh. If I wasn't all ready a fan of Valentines Day, you can be sure I'm really not now. Because I will always think of that moment. And my heart will break again.

So yeah. I don't love Valentines Day. Never have, never will.