I didn't plan this blog. The material for this one literally arrived on my doorstep a few days ago.
...the "rear windows."
I order a lot of stuff from Zulily. It's mostly stuff for EF, but recently I've been shopping for things for the new house. A while back I ordered some new drinking glasses and a few cute canister jars. We got a Zulily box on Monday. I assumed I knew what was inside so I didn't open it right away.
Zoom to Tuesday afternoon. Emma is napping and I decide to pack some things. I open the Zulily box, intending to find my glasses and canisters. They were there, but so were these....
I have "censored" this photo...because gross. Oh wait...
So, I immediately email Zulily to make sure I wasn't charged. I wasn't. They apologize. And I don't have to worry about sending these back, I can just donate them to my favorite local charity. These went in the trash. You're welcome "local charities."
Bradley and I got a good laugh out of this. We needed a good laugh. But then I started wondering, "Is this romance today?" I'm going to be honest...even if/when I had the parts to appropriately fill out these "undergarments," I wouldn't have. But when these came, I imagined my one-year-later-and-still-post-baby-body self attempting to strap these on. Nothing about that was romantic. Nothing about that was sexy.
I did not fall for my husband because of his ability to make grand, romantic gestures. He was romantic in his own way, but not overly so in that make-me-barf kind of way.
Don't get me wrong. I love a good romance, but probably not the kind you'd think. Anything Nicholas Sparks is a little over-the-top for me (sorry my sweet Katie). I am more of a Breakfast at Tiffany's romantic. I do love a good fairy tale, but I learned a long time ago that waiting for Prince Charming to show up could take a while (30ish years) and Frogs and Beasts are everywhere you turn.
Anyway, my Bradley was his own kind of romantic. Whatever it was that he had...er, has, it worked. We fell head over heels. A year later we were engaged. A year after that we were married. Then about 10 months after that, we got our sweet Emma Faye.
I doubt I am the only woman to realize that romance undergoes a serious transformation post-baby. Weekends away turn in to trips to the circus, the park, or the grandparents houses. Date nights are few, far-between and they end at 8:00. Nights away from the baby are agonizing, because you still wake up, wondering why the baby isn't waking you up.
Bradley and I have settled in to our new romance. It's not that Nicholas Sparks crap, but it's real, honest, "rub my swollen feet" romance. It's the 5:00 p.m., life-saving text message that says he will bring home dinner. It's the, "Hey, let's go fishing Friday night" date.
So, to those girls who think that the "Crotchless-with-rear-Windows" romance is what you should strive for, I challenge you to wait it out. Wait for your "prince" who takes you for Thai food and a baseball game. Wait for the guy who makes fun of your love for Harry Potter, but still participates in your yearly movie marathon. Maybe he won't literally sweep you off your feet, but he will always keep you grounded. Maybe he won't take your breath away all the time, but he will remind you to breathe. Maybe he won't be your knight in shining armor, but he will be your best friend and fiercest supporter (in an old tshirt). Maybe he won't be Prince Charming, but he will be the love of your life. So wait for him.
One more photo: Zulily Packing List (with JUST glasses and canisters)
My sister-in-law noted my "excellent taste" when I told her about this debacle.
No comments:
Post a Comment