Happy Valentine's Day... Stupid Cupid.

Drumroll please..... It's Valentine's Day. February 14th. I remember those days well sitting in elementary school counting out cartoon valentines at the end of the day to see how many I got. Junior high and high school got the carnation sales and the anticipation of seeing flowers delivered every period. Strange, how college was a bit of a blur and I can't recall the rites for that stage of romance...(blush).  Your twenties alternate between being preparing furiously to celebrate an uber-romantic evening with the love of your night or wearning all black and having a sassy girls' night out in defiance of the whole tradition.

I learned gradually as I got older to drastically lower my expectations of Valentine's Day. Single or not, somehow, it always lead to disappointment. I was never swept off my feet. Flowers never showed at my workplace (Or was it I managed to avoid being on the schedule so as to not vomit on a colleague's roses?). There were no surprise-cooked-just-for-me candlelit dinners. Lowering one's expectations worked well. I could enjoy a splash of color in the ol' wardrobe again and perhaps even hum a chorus or two of  "My Funny Valentine" walking by two twenty-somethings on their way to the last dinner of their relationship.

2007.  I may have been single on February 14th that year, but I was certainly looking forward to February 18th. I had a blind date scheduled. Meeting a gentleman at nice cozy tavern in Fells Point known for it's simple good food. I was terrified. The girl would be showing up with the green headband. Yeah, I know. Cliched at it's finest.  It was fun dinner, full of great conversation and laughter. He was tall, handsome, smart and gave me butterflies like no other. Clearly there had to be a catch. Especially when I ended the date early for my 4 am alarm for work the next day. I hoped, but had no idea if I would ever see him again. (yeah, you men are weird like that...).

2011. He's still here, snoring next to me on a nightly basis. I call him my dear husband. We have three gorgeous boys. We may bicker over who is going clean the cat box, change the next dirty diaper, put gasoline in the cars or fold the laundry; but he's my funny Valentine and we do it together. See what lowering your expectations for awhile can do? Land you the lottery.

Stupid Cupid, always picking on me.

WooHoo! It's National Marriage Week.

Valentine's Day is fast approaching. But even more importantly, did you know the week leading up to Valentine's Day is National Marriage Week? Apparently it's an annual celebration/focus on marriage from February 7-14. I am actually all for this, celebrating all types of marriages. I think, perhaps, it shouldn't just be a week. It should be 52 weeks, given the divorce rate in our country.

Marriage, after all, is hard work. Any married person can attest to that. It's easy for us to lose track of each other and nurturing of the marriage. There's work, there's the kids. There's house maintenance. There's chores. There's the never-ending laundry. There is the me time. And yet somehow, we rarely make time for the we time.  Oh sure, once every couple months one might call the babysitter and go out on a date, and typically start out the conversation with "Isn't this great? We really need to get out by ourselves more often..." and by the end of the evening have digressed to talking about the kids exclusively.

We have been working to get our married groove back since the birth of the twins. We instituted our Top Chef Sundays which has been quite successful thus far, as we have found we really enjoy cooking for each other again. I do my best to try to hang out for at least a half hour or so at night when the kids go down once or twice a week. (it's not easy). And Keith tries to come to bed early once or twice a week to keep me happy. We are also back to attempting to remember the little things and the small courtesies that are so easy to forget and take for granted.

With a little luck, it will be National Marriage Week all 52 weeks of the year in this home. And hopefully Valentine's Day everyday. I wish nothing but the same for EVERY married or united person out there.

My Own Personal Quickfire

Like many couples with small children, my husband and I are constantly seeking ways to find time during the day and/or week to have a moment when it is a little less about the kids and a little more about the marriage. After all, it is our relationship that became the springboard for marriage and children to begin with. We also firmly believe a happy Mommy and Daddy make for happy parents and thus, happier children.  But it's easy to forget and get caught up in the needs of two infants and a toddler, taking care of them day in and day out and suddenly, January has rushed by in a frozen blur of bottles, diapers and all the Playdough creations you can imagine.

So, my husband and I have taken it upon ourselves lately to actively make time for each other. But even the whole concept of "I won't go to bed and just stay up chatting during Animation Domination" can get stale real quick. Just as his keeping me company during a Real Housewives marathon puts him to sleep in five seconds.  And while Date Night is a crucial concept,  neither of us is convinced upping it to weekly would have the same effect; that just means once a week we pay someone to watch our kids while we leave the house to talk about them.  So, that leaves us with the question: what's a couple to do? Enter the weekly Quickfire cooking challenge.

For those of you who might be Bravo junkies like myself, then you surely must be familiar with the Emmy-winning Top Chef by now. A wickedly addicting cooking competition that never fails to make my mouth water and give me cooking envy.  It's also the only Bravo show to date my husband has ever watched with me. One week ago, we opted to break the household budget and purchase both the Top Chef cookbook and the Top Chef Quickfire cookbook. We decided that every Sunday, one of us would pick a recipe, starting with the Quickfire book  and cook for the other. It's a move that allows us to focus on the other in a way that takes us back to cooking in the pre-marriage days. Picking a surprise recipe, gathering ingredients, eagerly anticipating our spouse's reaction. And most importantly, not having to worry if the recipe is kid-friendly or not! Come to think of it, when was the last time holidays and birthdays aside, we really devoted time on a regular basis to planning things for our spouse?

This Sunday is the first day, and my husband is cooking for me. I can't wait to see how he does with his first Quickfire challenge. Padma be damned, he's already won in my book.