V is for Very Good

Yesterday shouldn’t have been a good day.

The night before, Miss Dub woke up four times either in tears or with a playful grin. The latter would have been cute, but did I mention she did that four times … in the middle of the night? And that she is almost four months old?

So we threw in the towel at 6:30 and started our day a bit disheveled and ornery. Miss Dub, who has quite curly locks when first bathed, was looking strangely like Bill Murray. I, on the other hand, was looking a little bit like Richard Dreyfuss, which conjures up images of “What about Bob?” as well as a whole lot of ugly.

As I looked outside at the huge snow drift that had piled up on our back (and only) porch, I remembered that it was Valentine’s Day. Just to fool all you unsuspecting folk, I quickly made a cheery V-Day post. Then, I got back to thinking about how much I hate holidays and forced celebrations, and how despite all that I was mad that my valentine cards were not in the mail, a special breakfast had not been made and no present had been bought for the Mister or lil’ Miss.

Things looked grim.

Then I thought about life. I thought about how silly things can be in retrospect. How the hardest things I’ve done in my life have become my proudest accomplishments. How the holidays I loathe often end up being my fondest memories. How life isn’t so much about how you live day to day but how you laugh about it in the future.

So I decided to cut Miss Dub a break. I mean, she is a baby. And she is cute and sweet and my most cherished creation. So I decided to laugh about my sleep deprivation. I decided to scoff at all the books and experts who claim to know the magical secret to keeping babies asleep. I decided to swaddle when so inspired and let her hang out naked when not. I decided to go with my instincts and not a system. I decided to spend more time worrying about her smiles than her sleeping.

As for Valentine’s Day, Mr. Dub had a fabulous idea. He decided we would each head to Target and spend $20 in 20 minutes on each other. He was the lucky recipient of a shirt, UNO cards, workout shorts and some unmentionables. I scored with a cool notebook, a bracelet, a pack of fun paper and a People magazine. (Not to mention the gorgeous tulips he brought home.)

And I managed to muster up my strength to doll myself up a bit and make a dinner of zucchini risotto, ricotta peas and lemon chicken.

All in all, a perfect Valentine’s Day.

But I can’t take credit for the miraculous turnaround of my shouldabeen horrible day. As always there was a Higher, sympathetic source. There was also my handsome Valentine and cute sweetheart. And did I mention it was sunny outside, albeit freezing?

But don’t get me started about this morning.