Monday was not much different than any other day, really. Little Red had a student holiday and I left the boys to watch tv while I participated in the Great Monday Morning Cleaning. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad. I made real progress from the previous week’s adventures.
I went to the doctor. We went to the park. I tutored. I had a mini mental celebration of my 6th blirthday. I made cookies.
Paul sweetly offered to cook dinner. I asked for something soft, that I wouldn’t have to chew much. We exchanged the truffles we had bought for each other. We talked about our first Valentine’s Day (he was in Hawaii and I in Idaho and I still remember what he sent me: some silly card with a frog on it, and the aloha shirt that I’ll never, ever give away and still sometimes wear even though it hardly fits anymore.)
Neither of us seemed to mind that we didn’t do anything out of the ordinary for Valentine’s Day.
It could be, perhaps, that we’d already had a nice dinner (at a restaurant! without the boys!) On Wednesday we went on a double date with his parents to Pizzeria Mozza, absolutely the best pizza you’ll ever have.
It could be, perhaps, that on Saturday night we left the boys with his parents so we could go see True Grit (in the theatre! by ourselves! a real date!)
Or it could be, perhaps, that he understood that even without pain I just wasn’t feeling well. After years of unintentional abuse my TMJ finally said last week “enough.” By Monday I didn’t have pain but I didn’t have full mobility (still don’t, actually, it’s amazing how even without pain, when something doesn’t work right it can affect your entire feeling of well-being) and that all I wanted was soft foods, sparse conversation, and to cuddle up to good tv. I may have felt one hundred years old when I told him all I wanted was “soft foods” for our Valentine’s dinner, but I’m glad to know that even when that’s a daily requirement, he’ll still love me. It sure is a good thing we love pasta so much.