I don't think/can't remember if Miles and I have ever made a big deal on Valentine's day. We surely acknowledge it, he's been sweet and I'm sure I've tried something nice... So of course we kept that tradition up this year. I began the day with a plan to make a wonderful dinner for us that evening (we've never try to brave the Valentine's restaurant crowd) but by lunchtime I was too tired from watching three kiddos under the age of three (if you're not good at math, thats two more than usual). Keeping up with two two-year old boys who wander off (around the house) and don't answer when you call for them, and a baby girl who will get into/pull up on anything and everything did not help me get into the dinner making mood. I reasoned with Miles that, despite spending so much money in Chicago, we could surely order Thai take-out and cuddle on the couch whilst watching a lovey-dovey movie.
When I got home, 30 minutes later than I was supposed to, Miles was still trying to call our favorite Thai restaurant a to place and order. They never picked up! Still trying to save the evening, we hopped in the car, still in our guitar building, baby snotted work clothes to place an order in person. When we finally parked and tried to order, they said it'd be 45 minutes. Wompwomp. And of course we had no plan b for dinner. We commiserated, tried not to get too annoyed at our evening, and ended up at at our favorite cheapo Mexican restaurant where every other group of single ladies in their 60s, families with little kids, and loud college friends (not generalizing, I recognized them from past classes. The kind where I was a senior and they were freshmen. Electives!) were dining during happy hour. But you know what? It was actually perfect. We sat in our guitar building, baby snotted work clothes, ate our chips and queso and talked about when we first started dating, future baby names, and everything in between.
We also promised ourselves a fancy date night in the near future (Valentine's pt. 2)