Nothing really keeps the fire alive and highlights the romance on Valentines Day than an inability to process solid foods and a need to remain less than two feet from a toilet at all times.  Hot, isn’t it?  So while we’ve never been a couple to put a lot into this particular holiday, being all fouled up certainly takes the cake.

But I’ve got to say just a bit about my guy–in between bathroom breaks, obviously.  Yes, this is a personal-ish blog and I will from time-to-time delve into details maybe others wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing.  But for whatever reason those details are almost always about my anxieties and insecurities as a parent, a professional, etc… I’ve avoided, mostly out of respect for Kelly, sharing some of the intimacies of my marriage.  He signed up for a lot when he committed to me, and it just never seemed right to subject him to even more than I already do.

That said, my guy rules.  For over a decade he’s been a rock as a flit between one anxiety attack to another.  He’s patiently listened as I obsessed over every minutia in my life and in our marriage.  He’s made me laugh when I thought I could only cry and, most recently, given me a stern kick in the pants and demanded that I have the kind of faith in myself that he’s always had in me.  How did I get so lucky?

There’s not a day that goes by where I am not completely and utterly inspired by his passion-for his work, for his family, and for his life.  Our son adores him and it’s no wonder.  As a father he is quite simply untouchable.

So while I had hoped to have a nice weekend of pampering my guy, for the time being, this is going to have to do.  Despite my best efforts to screw up our relationship he’s never given up on me.  And I certainly don’t tell him enough just how loved he is.  So, Kelly, Happy Valentines Day.  As soon as my bowels allow I will give you the kind of pampering you deserve.