First of all - awwww, you guys are very sweet and did help me get out of my frumpy mood. Lost in Space (Brenda, right?), what's a MAC store? I'm assuming you didn't mean the fun place where you purchase laptops, iphones, and ipods? Perhaps my rock is a little wider and heavier than your's :-).
So Alex and I had a big, over-the-top Valentine's night...and for good reason. We most often spend this holiday apart in different countries, so to know he was going to be home and plan an evening in advance was quite a treat. He made reservations at this restaurant on top of the RenCen in Detroit. It was on the 72nd floor and is apparently the second highest restaurant in the US. The food was good, typical high-end chophouse stuff, and the view was great. Poor Detroit, definitely a city that struggles (even more so in this economy), but at night, with all the lights, it's just another beautiful city.
We got all dressed up. That day I had to get some shoes to go with the dress I was wearing. As I was shoe shopping, the mantra of "I am not frumpy. I am not frumpy." ran through my head. The following shoe selection was the result. Can you believe it? I have never worn 3 inch heels in my life, and, let me tell you, it was quite a sight to see me attempt to walk in them. But then, miraculously, after a half bottle of wine, I was a heel-walkin' superstar...you would have thought that I trained on a runway :-).
Alex got me a cute little black number and a small box of chocolates. And that's about where the evening ended. I was plugged up with disgusting volumes of snot, and Alex, although he wasn't feeling bad, had residual intestinal issues from Africa. SUPER HOT AND SEXY! :-) We both popped the appropriate pills and headed to bed.
The small box of chocolates he gave me got me thinking...the littlest gestures do that sometimes. Back around the holidays, I was walking at the mall (yes, for exercise, NOW try to tell me I'm not frumpy :-)). As I turned a corner, I noticed three mentally-challenged, middle-aged adults in wheelchairs letting out these squeals of joy...I mean, it was a level of joy that I may have only been able to match by receiving a BFP the day of our beta. Seriously. I was so intrigued by this that I hid off to the side and observed - I was a cross between a stalker and a scientist conducting a sociology experiment :-). Come to find out, their caretakers had just informed them that they would be heading over to the candy store and that each one of them would be allowed to pick out a piece of candy. Joy! Joy! Joy! I got a little closer and quietly watched the whole thing. The candy selection process, their reactions as the cashier handed them their selected piece, their savoring of every last morsel, unaware of anyone around them. These folks were truly living in the moment. They knew how to really savor the small things in life. They had a piece of wisdom that I have somehow lost along the way, and I observed them with envy.
As I opened the box of four little chocolates on Valentine's Day, I thought about what if that was it...what if there was no over-the-top dinner, no sexy little black thing, no Alex at home to celebrate with...and, in the long-term, no children to come home to after our night out. Would I still be able to experience an abundance of joy as I savored a single piece of that chocolate? I would like to think that I could say "of course!", but I really don't know the answer. I get into these ruts of thinking the only true joy will be the joy we will experience when there is a child in our home...and in the meantime, I lose so many opportunities to savor all the little pieces of decadent chocolate that come into my life.
So I think of those three middle-aged adults at the mall often. Their squeals are imprinted in my head. And I think "if they can find that level of joy in something as simple as a piece of candy, so can I". They have been the greatest teachers I've had in a long time.
1 week ago