Happy Un-Anniversary To Me

In the nano-second between 11:59pm and 12:00am tonight, my husband and I will have gone from six years of wedded bliss to seven. What happened that day changed my life forever, but it doesn't bother me that our actual wedding date only roles around once every four years. 

Because I believe in celebrating our marriage every. single. day. 

Flight and Fright

Most of you know about the situation with my father. (If you're joining us late, you can read about it here.) After talking and praying with my husband, we've decided to fly me out to spend a week with Dad and my sister. She's been taking care of him since his hip surgery, and I'd like to be there to give her some help, even if it's only for a few days, while I have the means and the opportunity. There won't be too many more chances like this left.

I know my husband's going to miss me, but at this point he's probably ready to put me on the plane. I've become the ultimate "Nervous Mom", trying to cover all the bases and leave as many things done as possible. The freezer and cabinets are full, the laundry is done (a feat in itself!) the house is clean (more or less) and I've gone over all the pertinent info he might need in my absence (passwords, phone numbers, where the band-aids and Neosporin are...)   Have I mentioned that I've never been away from my little ones for even one day since they were born?  Or that I've only flown twice in my entire life?  Gee, do you think I've got reason to be nervous?  Yeah, pretty much.  Deep down, I know I've been stalling but I think the only thing left for me to do is pack.

Which I guess I'd better go do right now.  See you in a week.

Love Languages

No New Year's Day to celebrate
No chocolate covered candy hearts to give away
No first of spring
No song to sing
In fact here's just another ordinary day 
-Stevie Wonder

I've always been a romantic at heart, but I can never get into Valentine's day. Flowers wilt, cards get put in boxes and forgotten, and chocolate? My hips get plenty already, thankyouverymuch.

Hubby and I know how much we love each other, we're secure with that. (Besides, he knows how Italian I'll get if he even thinks about looking at another woman. Just kidding. Kind of.)

But it's not always easy to avoid the pressures of a society that says, "You MUST do something for Valentine's! Who cares if you shower each other with love all the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year, this is HEART DAY!"  What's a practical, pragmatic, down-to-earth woman to do? Well, it depends on the love language.

Some people's love language is found in acts of service. (You've been working so hard building the pigpen, honey...here, let me take care of cleaning out the chicken coop for you.) Still others melt over words of affirmation. (Yes, dear, I really do like the way you look with a beard...it's so rugged and masculine!) Or even just a simple bit of quality time. (No, honey, I don't need to work on my blog tonight, I'd much rather curl up on the couch and watch your favorite Civil War documentary with you.)

So, what is my husband's love language?

Automotives.