Happy Valentine's Day - Even Though You Fight

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The art of love... 
is largely the art of persistence.  
 
~ Albert Ellis
 
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 What?  No photo for this post?  I haven't let you down!  I just felt it best to write the story this time around.  You know, really build you up. Then slam the image of the most beautiful and the insane letter dad of the year and I received from daughter of the year #1.  

 As you know, it's nearly Valentine's Day, which in our house has never quite been romantic, filled with aching love, nor with sweet love notes.  Last year, you might remember, I blogged about dad of the year's very first attempt at getting me flowers which went cruelly awry.  This year, he let me pick our my very own brand spanking new Coach purse, which is red patent leather.  Yep, THAT folks is freaking romance!  

 Speaking of love notes, daughter of the year #1 has mentioned many times for several weeks that she had to write a note to dad of the year and I for Valentine's Day.  Now, I'll admit, I got a little weak in the stomach at the thought of a public letter that her teacher would likely read.  Memories of the bathtub conversation with her 2nd grade teacher came flashing back at me (if you don't remember, read the An F in Parenting post from 2011 http://pursuingmomoftheyear.blogspot.com/2011/09/f-in-parenting.html).  We are pretty much an open book in our home which I may have to rethink after reading this letter.  

 "Mom," daughter of the year #1 muttered as she entered my bathroom one morning as I was doing my hair.  "I want you to read my Valentine's letter."  

 "Am I supposed to?"  I asked.  She had mentioned this letter before and that she was making "something special" for dad of the year and I as a gift.  "I thought it was supposed to be a secret."

 "Buuuuuttttt," she whined, "I really want you to read it."  

 OK then, as I usually do, I gave in.  She handed me a pristine white piece of paper with a template for a letter on it.  I got about two lines into it when I wanted to die of shame.  As I read my daughter's profession of love and what great parents we are, I should have known something was coming.  And that something was like a large hand right across my face. About 4 sentences in, right there on that pristine piece of paper that simply reads:  Even though you fight all the time.  

 "Why did you write we fight all the time?" I yelled.  

 "Because you do," she responded.

 "No we don't," I declared rather firmly.  "Your dad and I have demanding jobs and sometimes when we talk about them, it might sound like we are mad, but we certainly are not mad at each other."  I was desperately trying to explain that what she overhears is simply two parents complaining about their day from time to time and not fighting.  Oh boy!   Here comes that F in parenting again, and just when I thought I was earning a solid C+!  

 Then, it hit me.  I mean, HIT me!  

 "Did your teacher see this?"  I asked.  

 "Yep." 

"What did she say?" I asked nervously. 

I could totally sense another one of those "talks" at conferences in March.  GREAT!  Not to mention that we must be incredibly weight conscious for the reiteration that daughter of the year #1 doesn't care about my weight and loves me just the way I am.  Thoughtful and sweet?  Yes.  Buttering me up after the fighting comment?  Maybe.

"Nothing,"  she responded.  "It was weird mom, she just kissed me on the top of the head, laughed and said 'Oh I love you, kid'."  

 Could it be?  Third grade teacher of the year gets me?  She knows I am on this endless pursuit for mom of the year and knows I am far from perfection?  Perhaps she has met other moms on their pursuit as well.  She has been teaching a long time.  

Whatever the outcome, we'll find out in March.  Now, read her beautiful yet distressing, love letter.  Happy Freaking Valentine's Day!  

 

 

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