The Real Valentine's Day Post

Sorry about the fake-out last week, but today really is Valentine's Day. It is also precisely 200 days until my wife's due date.

I will not be sharing what my Valentine's Day plans are, because I don't want to tell you, and you don't really want to know.

But I do want to etch into the Internet ether just how much I love my wife, and how much she's meant to me over the years.

When we first met, back more than ten years ago, fresh out of high school, it was just a crush. Fitting for a boy weeks removed from his Senior Prom, it was a simple schoolboy crush. Meeting you then made the apprehension of college melt away. Now, don't go getting a big head about that -- it wasn't so much specifically you (you had a faraway boyfriend, remember) -- but more about the concept of you. A beautiful, smart, funny woman, plopped right into my Orientation Group. And if this was the first day, well, then surely the next four years would be memorable.

And the next four years were memorable- at least the parts that aren't too hazy. That school boy crush ebbed and flowed, but was always a part of me. I like to think that it wasn't entirely unrequited, as you would insist at the time.

What made those four years most memorable was what happened toward the end of that sophomore year. Those precious first steps, first conversations, first kisses of a new relationship. The circumstances were indeed peculiar, but, as time would prove, when you are in love, you are in love.

Since then we've had our ups and our downs, our own ebbs and flows. We broke up and returned to each other. We were separated by hundreds of miles, but spoke each night, like clockwork (plus, I found out that my clock does work in the middle of the night). I ran through the same emotions that I did when we first met - reverting back to a crush and moving forward from there.

But through it all, I never stopped loving you. Through thick and thin, good times and bad, I'm not sure that my feelings for you ever entirely left. We may have been "just friends," but you were a friend I loved, and I think you felt the same way.

Last year, when we married ("finally!" some would say) I found myself thinking about what love and relationships really are. Marriage is a commitment, an act of dedication spawned from love.

Having a baby goes beyond that commitment and dedication of marriage. Whether conceiving a child is a conscious or unconscious decision, our growing child is a manifestation of our love (in the literal and figurative senses).

And this Valentine's Day, beyond any chocolates I could buy, flowers I could send, or restaurants we could visit, knowing that we are bringing a child into this world together is all the gift I need.

It's been quite a year for our family. Going back 12 months, we've started a new job (you), moved, gotten married/gone honeymooning, started a new job (me), gotten pregnant (you, with help from me), and now we are about to close on our first home.

I gotta tell ya, I'm the luckiest school boy around.

The Valentine's Day Post

If you're using Nine Month Odyssey as a calendar, stop. And stop panicking, it is not currently Valentine's Day. It is one week until Valentine's Day. Though it's still seven days away, I'm up a creek: I got nothing.

Technically newlyweds, my wife and I have spent a fair amount of Valentine's Days together. For our first few, we went the traditional route: prix fixe menus at restaurants advertised in the local paper. When that wore out, tried a few alternatives: nights out at bars, nights in with pizza. We eventually settled into staying home with each other and a bottle of wine (or something harder).

Given that this is our last Valentine's Day together alone, and our first as expectant parents, I feel that we should do something to mark the occasion (as does my wife who has hinted as much). If we mirrored last year, we'd have to lose the alcohol and Valentine's Day slips dangerously close to "Ordering Pizza on a Wednesday."

So when your nights are cut short by biology and you've traded your sloshy nights for teetotaling, what's left? Not to mention, on top of the biological limitations, we're a few short weeks away from assuming significant mortgage debt.

I know I'd be happy to share a couch, cuddle up, and watch new episodes of "Lost." But, if I've learned one thing about marriage, it ain't about me, it's about us. I know there are great ideas out there, I've just got to find them. And when I do, I'm happy to sell them to anyone for the right price.