D-Day…I Mean, V-Day.
This is an open space, we’re honest here- right? Right.
Well, today is Valentine’s Day and I’m the most unsexy Erika I’ve ever been. Sure, I’ve got myself a Valentine, I guess. But in a 700 square foot maternity cage where his Biology books share equal space with burp cloths and used diapers- I think it goes without saying the romantic/sexy aspect of today and the luck of having someone to share it with goes a little fuzzy.
But Erika, you just had a baby. You’re the most woman you’ll ever be and that is sexy.
I’m squishy. I’m marked. My V is out of action for V Day. I missed 3 spots shaving in the short time I had while my infant was passed out (and the need to shave was embarrassingly drastic so my legs look like a 14 year old with those weird tufts of hair on his face because he can’t grow a real beard). And for the last four weeks i’ve been so busy looking down at latching, poop, pretty sleeping infant, pumps and whatever outside communication I can get from my friends in a land far away on Facebook- I can’t remember the last time I actually kissed today’s valentine.
BUT…I’m gonna do whatever I can to spruce myself up and make the most of Commercial Love Day.
Swipe some mascara, brush some blush on those cheeks that finally came back from the depths of water retention, and do something with your hair. I even painted my nails Prostitute Red. Most of this step is for me, it’ll be nice to pass a mirror and recognize myself. But maybe he’ll notice, too.
Wrap that Moby around your waist, slip the bundled baby in and get hopping on his gift. It won’t be much but it’ll be something. Enough to say “thank you for supporting me while I grew your child, holding my leg while I pushed and not staring at me like a crazy person when I broke down and sobbed a few weeks ago”.
You’re not going out. Date night won’t happen for awhile and New York inflates dinner prices to an embarrassing level on V Day anyways- so while you’re out for his gift, grab some dinner ingredients and try to whip up a special plate of love for the both of you. And make it easy enough to eat with a kid attached to your boob because she’ll more than likely pick the exact time dinner is ready to need her dinner as well. While you’re at it, have long pretty hair that blows in a perfectly placed fan wind with a sexy nursing bra unclipped so the mood isn’t ruined with suckling and milk soaking your top.
Remember that he probably still finds you somewhat attractive or, at least, remembers that you’ll get back to the good you at some point. Don’t put yourself down today and buck up for whatever love and romance you can muck up.
And she’s worth the unsexy. I mean, clearly.