my valentine

Since my outdoor excursions are pretty well limited to yoga classes and grocery shopping these days, I wanted to make an effort to have a real date with Thom on Valentine's Day. He did a great job of booking us a table at Upstairs on the Square, and I donned a cute black skirt and completely inappropriate high heals for the night.

You see nothing was going to get in the way of me feeling feminine and sexy (I figure even bowling balls can be feminine and sexy), not even a day's worth of snow, ice, and slush. Sadly, no amount of determination can keep ice from your ankles when you have to walk through foot-high drifts to get to your destination.

Luckily, feet eventually dry and good food conquers almost anything, so dinner was a great success. We even managed to talk about non-baby subjects for almost 20 minutes.

When we got home, Thom gave me a promised foot massage, which could not have come at a better time. That and his other present--a gift certificate for a prenatal massage--show how he truly understands his wife's needs.

Even more than the dinner or presents, I'm so grateful for his amazing attitude throughout this pregnancy. He's made sure to be very involved in every step (even when it means forcing upon him the equivalent of male kryptonite: a breastfeeding class). And when he tells me how beautiful I am with my big round belly, I believe him. He can't possibly know how much that means to a woman who spends most of her day feeling like the Goodyear Blimp.

So, fully aware of the danger of sounding super sappy and of embarrassing the pants off of him, I just want to thank my fantastic husband for being the best Valentine's Day gift I could have ever asked for.