All day long on Valentine’s Day, I was listening to romantical music to put me in the mood for love. I pulled out the eighties power ballads, the Whitney, the Celine. I got in deep.

And in his deepest of mini-manly hearts, Magoo was NOT impressed. He was begging, BEGGING, for his favorite songs but I told him we could only listen to songs about love. At one point, he said, “Please can we listen to Ghostbusters? It’s about love. If you save people from bad ghosts, that’s love.”

He has a point. I think it’s okay to stretch the meaning of Valentine’s Day just a bit.

For Dan’s present, I got him the movie RED because red is one of the official colors of love and also there’s nothing quite as romantic as automatic weapons.

Dan got me some lovely flowers and serenaded me with My One and Only Love played on his saxophone. Ahhhh. That is romance. Then to finish off our evening, we tried to get our rabbit ears to pick up ABC so we could watch Castle, gave up and worked on our laptops side by side.

The kids even slept at some point last night, despite the fact that their veins ran thick with high fructose corn syrup and their teeth were died green from Fun Dip. In all honesty, that was a bit disappointing. It should have been pink.

And may all your heart-shaped pancakes be fluffy!

So things are moving along. Wanda is aging rapidly. We’ve moved her out of our room and I’ve decided it’s time to purchase some new Snazzy Jammies.

The problem is – I hate buying Snazzy Jammies. Now if you go to the Snazzy Jammie store to buy them, it’s not embarrassing because everyone in the store is there for the same reason, but who wants to spend that kind of money which only goes to pay for more of those life-sized posters right next to the kids’ play area at the mall?

No. When I’m looking for Snazzy Jammies, I usually look at Target or Kohl’s.

The problem is – Most people at Target and Kohl’s are not purchasing Snazzy Jammies. They are there looking for rain boots or a kitchen timer, maybe a roll of scotch tape. I like all of those things as much as the next person and so I usually try to camouflage my Snazzy Jammie purchase by spending way too much on sundries but, really, you cannot totally camouflage SJs. You just can’t.

A piece of Snazzy fabric may stick out from under your bag of diapers, giving your Snazzy-Jammy-Wearing ways away to curious bystanders. And at some point the checker will have to pull them out of their hiding place under the bathmat on the conveyer belt to scan them. She can either scan them discreetly or hold them up to the light, taking the hanger out with an eye-catching flourish and turning them from side to side in order to check out just how Snazzy they are. I’ve had both. I prefer discreet.

And I always feel like she’s looking at me a little too hard. Maybe she’s wondering if Snazzy Jammies should even come in the size I’m purchasing. So what if I’m wearing no makeup, have my hair in a bun and am sporting sweat pants. A woman carrying a mom-purse so big that it sets off the flashing “fasten seatbelt” light when she puts it on the passenger seat of her mini-van is still entitled to feel Snazzy once in a while. I think it’s in the constitution somewhere… or at the very least one of the amendments.

Dan and I have been dating a lot lately. It’s like being back in high school but I go out with the same guy every time and at the end of the night, he watches me brush my teeth and put on my muumuu. If he’s lucky, I also brush my teeth before the date and don’t put on the muumuu until after.

Dinner and/or a movie has been working well for us for months but we’re read to branch out and I’d love your suggestions. What are some fun date activities you enjoy with your shmoop?

I’ll give a couple.

Go to an arcade and play like you were little kids. Chuck E Cheese would even work for this. Sometimes it’s fun to go to places you normally take your kids but without them. You can actually enjoy yourself instead of following them around taking pictures and watching them have fun. That can be good too but sometimes it’s fun to enjoy yourself without worrying about who that weird creepy adult guy is crawling around in the tunnel maze with your 3-year-old.

Spend some time at a bookstore, browsing new sections and reading together. Dan and I had to stop reading a particular book last time we did this because we were laughing so hard we were worried we’d get kicked out and Dan was embarrassed by his own laughing man-tears.

Go kayaking in the Puget Sound… or other substandard body of water closer to where you live. We’ve done this once and it was a blast. Hopefully when the kids are older we’ll have the time and money to do this more often.

Okay, now you go. Tell me what we should do for our next night (or day) out.

1. Buy a new belt.
2. Join Weight Watchers.
3. Buy the most expensive theater tickets you’ve ever purchased in your life for a show that’s coming to town in nine months.

Do all these things and you’ll have a positive pregnancy test in less than 2 weeks. I guarantee it.

I like a lot of you. I don’t know you. I don’t readily admit to watching your shenanigans and exploits. I just happen to catch the show every Monday night at 8pm PST completely by accident. You are not super-real to me but just real enough I thought I’d write you all a letter on the internet, from one mom to a group of future moms who are, like, so ready to be moms.

First off, Jason doesn’t plan the dates. When he takes you out in a blimp, a jet, a parachute, a helicopter, a largish kite, shoots you from a cannon, or in some way takes you soaring to new heights with a view of the world you’d never imagined was possible, he is not the mastermind behind the experience. He has a team of PRODUCERS PLANNING EVERYTHING FOR HIM.

When you’re married, the team of producers will no longer live at your house, feeding him lines, starting the campfires, decorating his mansion and making every moment perfect. Jason will likely change back into a normal human male, a human male with a 5-year-old son whom he loves more than you.

And it’s not that heating up your own Papa Murphy’s while desperately seeking a vegetable to feed the child and then trying to get him in bed early enough that you’ll still have energy left for quality time with your shmoop isn’t fun. It’s just different. He will likely never shoot you out of a cannon or write your name in the sky again, at least not on weeknights. He may ask you to do his laundry though.

Secondly, nothing prepares you for motherhood, not watching shirtless Jason on TV playing with his son, not holding your friend’s kid until it starts to squeak ever-so-slightly, not obtaining a college degree, not “getting all the partying out of your system,” not even being hosed down with boogers and diaper fillins for 6 months straight while someone screams in your ear at the top of their lungs. Nothing prepares you. I’m not sayin’ it ain’t wonderful because it is. You’re just not, like, so ready. No one is.

After our New Years’ Eve play date, Laylee came up and showed me the beautiful heart our friends’ young son, her kindergarten classmate, had drawn for her. Then she started rehearsing lines from I know not what.

Laylee: Mom. Look what Joseph made me.
Me: Wow. That’s really friendly.
Laylee (dreamily): I’ve been thinking about it all night and I think I’m in love with him.
Me: Hmmm. That’s nice.
Laylee: I’m pretty sure he’s the man I’m going to marry.
Me: Well, you’ve got a long time before you have to decide that.
Laylee: I’m pretty sure.

So I think the conversation is over but after we get home, she approaches me with that same dreamy spaced-out look and says, “Mom, I’ve decided. The next time I see Joseph, I’m going to kiss him on the lips.”

So here I start fumbling, picturing the fiasco if she really does attempt a predatory make-out session during recess or at church, “You know, kissing on the lips is kind of a thing for big people to do.”

Upon hearing this, Magoo piped up, “I will kiss you.” And walked over and gave me a big kiss on the lips. Great timing Bud. Way to help me prove my point.

So again we hear from Laylee, “I just can’t imagine falling in love with anyone else.”

Ah me. Young love. I have several journals filled with such nonsense so it shouldn’t freak me out too badly. However I’m pretty sure I didn’t start that young. I know I was at least old enough to write by myself before I considered stealing the lip virtue of any young gentleman friend.

Later that night when I was standing in the glare of a squad car spotlight trying to explain that I didn’t know fireworks were illegal in our town on New Year’s Eve, my head was filled with visions of a special lock-down for romantically-advanced little girls. It looked something like a super-sized life pod, with a lock on the outside and plenty of face time with mama. It looked something like our house, actually.

How many children should we have?
Is the time right?
Am I healthy enough?
Was that a miscarriage?
Do I want to go through all that again?

I was recently talking with Eve’s kids when the 3-year-old asked me why I didn’t have a baby at my house. “We have a baby. Where’s your baby? Why don’t you have a baby?”

“Well,” patting my mid-section, “I’m just saving space here in case Heavenly Father wants to put one in there.”

Then the second grade son chimed in with a look on his face that seemed to say, “I really like you so Iiiii’m gonna help you get on the clue bus.”

“All you need to do is get some SPERM.”

“Thanks. I’ll look into that.”

Doh! The SPERM! The missing link. So next time I’m in Rite Aid, I’ll see what they have in stock.

Thank you so much for all of your kindness as I’ve been going through this rough time. It’s not hard to be open about my struggles when I get such a gracious and loving response.

It’s amazing how fast the hard times come and how quickly they begin to recede with faith, prayers, friends, good medical care and prescriptions, and a weekend spent sitting on an island watching the sunset with your main schmoop and zero small people.

Dan and I had planned a getaway for this past weekend months before my brain glitch last month happened. It’s the first time we’ve gone away for a weekend without the kids in the nearly six years since Laylee was born and I feel sure that all the planning and timing were no accident. Someone knew I’d need some extra relaxation to help get over the worst of my panic and anxiety.

Now we’re getting back into our routine and it seems strange that just days ago I was swallowed up in so much fear and panic. I’ve been sleeping in, grateful to be sleeping well again and we were a bit tardy getting Laylee to kindergarten this morning. I apologized and she sensed the stress in my voice.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m late for school Mom. It just matters that I’m alive. Come on, man!”

Yeah, yeah. Peace, love and all that jazz. I’d still like to avoid excessive and habitual late slips. But I enjoyed the sentiment. There is wisdom in our young ones. Upon arriving back home, Laylee’s favorite song “I Know Karate” (see embed below) was playing on the cd player and Magoo begged me not to go inside until it had finished.

So we stayed in the car as I unleashed the artistic fury of my funky greatness. Rolling fists, flashing jazz hands and bobbing my head like a skanking Rastafarian. Hey. My car dancing moves are limited because my mobility is restricted but I can still bust a move in a manner pleasing to children under the age of six. Magoo parroted my every motion and when the song finished he exclaimed, “I did it. I could do all of it!”

And his moves were passable. I hope they serve him well in his life. Maybe he’ll report back to me about how they’re working for him. Perhaps in junior high sometime. Maybe his peers will report back even more emphatically.

And the award for My Favorite Husband Mother’s Day 2008 goes to… SLASH THOMPSON!!!!

This is a picture of us dressed up to play Rock Band this weekend with some crazy friends. Dan went all out with the nose ring and wig this time. He even painted on a gold tooth. No one can ever say that man’s not fly because he is.

Not only is he fly but he’s also the recipient of the MFHMD2008 award and I will tell you why. This year for Mother’s Day Dan asked me for a few gift ideas. I typed out a wish list, complete with links to websites, and then gave it to him way too late for him to order anything on the list in time for Mother’s Day. So he improvised.

I’m trying to consume less after following one of my reader’s advice to watch this video. When I do need something, I’ve been trying to buy more things second hand or from companies that follow fair trade practices.

On my wish list I’d asked for a fairly-made recycled glass pitcher, glass because it’s free of the toxins commonly found in plastic. (Yes I’m being assimilated by the granola-ites.)

So Dan took the kids to a giant antique shop where he spent over an hour walking them through the entire maze of breakable treasures looking for the exact right pitcher for me. He said he passed up several along the way, wanting to make sure he found one he knew I’d like. Be still my heart, it’s perfect! “Recycled” in the truest sense of the word, BPA-free and lovely. He couldn’t get me exactly what I wanted in time for Mother’s Day so he paid attention to the REASONS behind what I was asking for and got me something better.

At the store he let Laylee pick through every piece of jewelry she could find, advising her on my tastes. “Yes that IS pretty, but mom doesn’t really like to wear heart-shaped jewelry.” Heaven bless him for guiding her to a pretty bracelet I will actually WEAR! On the way home from the antique shop, they stopped for flowers.

I slept in late this morning and woke to find Laylee had created an avalanche of drawings for me, all on the theme of love, moms, mudders and LOVE. Dan made scrambled eggs with extra cheese.

From Magoo I got new non-slip potholders that match my KitchenAid perfectly and to top it off, I was presented with the final season of the West Wing so I can discover again whether Matt Santos, Latino for President, beats Allen Alda to become the next leader of these United States in Imaginary Political World Where I’m a Staunch Democrat.

And they were nice to me all day. And they made me breakfast. And I got to eat off the special plate. And Magoo magically fell asleep in the car on the way home from church and let me carry him inside and rock him like a baby for the better part of an hour, something he hasn’t let me do for months. It was a great day to be a mom and a great day to be married to Dan. How was your Mother’s Day? Was it a great day to be married to Dan for you too?