Valentine's Day / nothing says I love you like an artichoke
Despite sick baby and all of the other hell, Valentines day was surprising nice. My husband scheduled weeks in advance to be home that evening. It was a few hours of respite in all the chaos. He grilled steak and corn, even bringing me an artichoke (which I adore and crave mercilessly despite their prohibitive cost). There were chocolate covered strawberries, roses, and just general warm fuzzy togetherness.
After kids fell asleep (amazingly that night vivi slept for a few hours), the particular combination of humor, understanding, patience, flexibility, and love that intimacy in the third trimester requires. and the fun of discovering that I do have lingerie that not only fit but was flattering in a gauzy translucent pregnant goddess sort of way.
After kids fell asleep (amazingly that night vivi slept for a few hours), the particular combination of humor, understanding, patience, flexibility, and love that intimacy in the third trimester requires. and the fun of discovering that I do have lingerie that not only fit but was flattering in a gauzy translucent pregnant goddess sort of way.