Valentines Day with my three little boys

It’s Valentine Week, with Saturday being the big day  

Honestly, I’ve always been such a boy mom, even before I had my three sons. The only time I truly got excited about Valentine’s Day was in grade school. It was mostly ignored in high school, except for the girls, but I didn't enjoy it. Too much expectation, and we all know what happens when we expect something we most likely will not get. We get disappointed because the cute boy in typing class didn't give you a Valentine, so I outgrew Valentine's Day fairly quickly. 

I suppose there was a time when I thought I was a "romantic," but I don't consider myself one now, though I can certainly be romantic at the appropriate times. I think I’m simply too practical to lean into romance for romance’s sake.

After infidelity and divorce, the way you view love and romance can change. The sparkle dims. Expectations soften. You learn to guard your heart more carefully. Love becomes quieter, steadier, and far more grounded in reality.

But for my little boys, I would fall head over heels into Valentine love.

My three guys - with my VW camper van in the background. 

Michael (in red cap), age 8, Navy, with the bald head, was 2, and Foodie, with the big goofy grin, was 5. 

They never really embraced the pink hearts, frilly cards, and flowery fuss. So instead, I tried to make the day fun, warm, and memorable in ways that fit them, not Hallmark. In exchange, I received their delightful Valentine artwork, coupon books filled with thoughtful chores for me to redeem, and other teacher-directed school valentines. These were charming and certainly appreciated, but what I truly treasured were more of their simple homemade gifts, the ones that reflected their hearts and creativity. 

As they grew older, all three eventually admitted they didn’t care much for this holiday. It felt too girly, too awkward. Their hearts were dedicated to sports, not the flutter of young romance, and they were unsettled by the spectacle of Valentine’s Day at school with the girls. Too much pressure. 

Then they told me they felt bad because I didn’t have a special love like the other moms. 

That broke my heart.

I told them that they were my special loves and would always be. It was also an excellent opportunity to remind them that Jesus was God's perfect love to us. 

We continued to celebrate Valentine’s Day, just in a more guy-like way. What boy can resist the charm of a candlelit pizza dinner, especially when Mom entrusts him with matches and the serious responsibility of lighting the candles? 😳 I always set out three candles, one for each son, to keep them from arguing. 

Instead of chocolates and hearts, they received bags of SF Giants roasted peanuts, BIG LEAGUE CHEW, and baseball cards. Then we would settle in with an action movie and a roaring fire in the fireplace.

❤️

No mushy, kissy stuff.

And then we moved on.

February 14, 2002, 

was my last Valentine’s Day with just them.

Two days later, on the 16th, my three sons stood together and gave me away at my remarriage. It was so special when the Pastor asked, 

As it turned out, it was also my last Valentine’s Day with Michael, as he would pass away the next year. 

Looking back at these tender memories, I have come to believe that love does not always arrive wrapped in romance. Sometimes it comes in the form of three little boys, candlelit pizza dinners, and quiet nights by the fire. 

God’s fingerprints were everywhere in those years. In the midst of loss and broken dreams, He entrusted me with my three little boys and allowed their love to become my healing. Valentine's Day was every day. 

Monday is the day I always have things to do. Laundry, straightening up, my bible study, errands, etc. The husband has taken Laydee to the Vet for her monthly shot. She's doing incredibly well, but I believe it is the mild weather. That stretch from Dec to Jan, when we had some cold temperatures, was rough on her arthritis. 

Spring is in the air...

We had some rain yesterday, 

But today is bright, clear, and sunny. 

Until next time...

Debby