Bah humbug.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Valentine’s Day.  Today, however, I’m tired, hungry and it doesn’t help matter that my daughter just tried to flush her t-shirt down the toilet.  So I’m beyond cranky right now.

I have a wonderful husband who gives me roses every Valentine’s Day.  I was surprised the first Valentine’s Day we were apart and I got a delivery at my door.  I shouldn’t have been. He promised me roses every Valentine’s Day long ago.  Poor guy had to compete with the memory of a former boyfriend who ruined my notions of Valentine’s Day romance.  (Which is one of the many reasons I love the love story of my friend who just got married in December.  Even though it was a long wait they are each their first relationship.  I think how blessed they are to not have memories of someone else messing up the memories they are currently making).  Anyway, he patiently loved me and has replaced old memories with wonderful ones.  And even though he hasn’t deployed much, we’ve still spent plenty of Valentine’s Days apart.  But every Valentine’s Day I’ve had roses.  So I did expect a delivery today.  But today is PWOC, and while I eagerly anticipated my flowers, I wasn’t going to wait by the door all day long.  I hoped the delivery would be scheduled for this afternoon.  As long as they came between 1 and 5 I had nothing that couldn’t wait.  But they came early.  I was sad when I got the call.  When I told the girl I wouldn’t be home for another hour, I could hear that that just didn’t work for her in her voice.  But I told her I was flexible for the rest of the afternoon.  I didn’t worry about getting an exact time of when she’d be by because I could be flexible.  I called back at 7, because I don’t know what your definition of afternoon is, but to me 7 is definitely evening.  And I had plans.  I’ve had many plans for my evening over the course of the day, but I had plans.  I had offered to be a babysitter, and then my plans were to stay home and order pizza.  But when that didn’t work out, I had plans to go to the FPU class at my church.  Figured I’d pick up some Arbys on the way, and diapers on the way home.  I mean, we discussed the flowers being delivered in the afternoon, I was sure I could get away by 6:30.  It’s 7:30 now and still no flowers.  And that phone call I made to the delivery girl.  Had to leave a message.  Don’t know what company she’s with so I can’t call the florist.  At this point, I don’t actually expect anything anymore.

My husband has tried so hard to be wonderful this Valentine’s Day.  He sent all of us cards.  He sent me flowers and he put a Happy Valentine’s thing in the local paper.  Two out of three have been tainted.  The thought to send flowers even from halfway around the world is wonderful, and is enough.  I don’t blame him that they aren’t here.  However, their inability to show up is disappointing.  The paper.  It made me so happy.  However, his command got upset that he’d have the audacity to do such a thing.  Now, when I look at it I know he got in trouble to do that for me.  (Shows me what the command thinks of me though.  Good to know next time when I have to choose between a unit functions and anything else).  But I still have my card.  And the knowledge that even though we are a world apart, I still have the most thoughtful, wonderful Valentine on the planet.

Oh, yes, the t-shirt in the toilet, or should I say the icing on the cake.  My very close to being potty trained daughter, has decided that she doesn’t want to use the toilet.  However, she also refuses to wear a diaper that has been worn when she has even thought about peeing.  We’ve only been home since 1, but that child has gone through 10 diapers since coming home.  The joys of having a child old enough to change oneself, but for some reason won’t use the toilet.  I’m not out of diapers yet today, but at her rate I would have been by the time the flowers arrive (or bed time, which as I don’t think I’m getting flowers today will arrive first).  I had planned to stop by the store and buy a new pack of diapers when the flowers got here.  A very, very large pack seeing as we apparently need two dozen a day.  Anyway, to ensure we had a diaper for leaving for the store (and back up which I’m glad for now) I cut off her diaper supply and made her wear underwear.  I hoped she’d use the potty with underwear on.  I didn’t realize that she’d rebel and use the toilet in a whole new way.  Flushing her clothes.

Well, my pizza is here.  Ordered it when I couldn’t get a hold of the flower delivery lady.  Didn’t want to leave just in case she comes, but knew if I made anything I’d just be pissed off and miserable.

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