Tuesday Tip: Treat Every Day Like Valentine's Day

So, here it is again.  Valentine's Day.  February 14th.  The day that can make hearts leap or sink in the flash of an FTD bouquet.  In years past, I've been a great Valentine.  I've been thoughtful and creative, finding the perfect card and gift for my amour.  This year, I've been so consumed by work and kids and life in general that the best I could do was a twenty minute, twenty dollar trip to Target yesterday -- a trip that yielded cards, stickers and candy for the kids and only a simple card for the man in my life who deserves much much more.  

My husband is a patient, funny, loving, gentle soul.  Of course, he is also a husband and, like many husbands, has on occasion completely forgotten Valentine's Day and instead professed "every day is Valentine's Day with you!"  I never thought I'd stoop to his level but this year, I have.  And, as I'm prone to do far more often today than when we first got married almost a decade ago, I have to admit, he just might be right.  

Maybe we should treat every day like Valentine's day -- not in a roses and chocolate kind of way but rather, in the way we treat each other each year when February 14th rolls around -- with an extra dose of love and kindness. With an extra sense of care and devotion.  With the thoughtfulness and sensitivity we bestow upon new love and forget all too soon as that love grows familiar and comfortable.  Wouldn't it be nice if on any given Tuesday you reminded your loved ones what you loved most about them?  What makes them so special to you?  That's what I've decided to do this Valentine's Day.


I started by writing that card from Target to the dear man I snuggle in with each night and start anew with each morning.  I also wrote cards to each of our kids, taking the time to think about what I love most about them, what makes them each unique.  This was a great way to remind myself of what matters most -- on Valentine's day and every other day of the year.  In short, it is...

• Des' ability to make me laugh even when I'm tired and grumpy -- which lately, is far to often!
• Liam's willingness to try anything once, his determination to succeed in school and in sports and his wide-eyed innocence that I fear will fade all too soon.
• Ciara's ability to connect with little kids, old folks and anyone in between and offer a sweet smile or kind word. Her smile brightens days, and often brightens mine.
• Kevin's innate happiness... the way he climbs out of his crib and into our bed with a huge grin that is just a delicious way to start the day.
• Declan's infectious laugh and power hugs.  The kid has a hug like no other -- it can squeeze a bad day right out of you and for me, often has.
• Cormac's sparkling eyes, alive and aglow with a sense of mischief and disarming charm.  It charms me daily and, will surely charm and disarm many other ladies -- and Valentine's -- in the years to come.

Perhaps more than anything else, I love this picture, which my handsome hubby drew and I think says it all:

Tuesday Tip: Be Nice to your Husband

Sometimes I struggle to come up with a meaningful tip to share.  Sometimes I feel out of tips and like I could use a few myself.  Sometimes I'm so tired or so overwhelmed with work that I'm not tuned in to the tots around me to take in the daily observations that turn into weekly tips.  This is one of those times.  As I sat here wondering what to write, I turned to my husband and said "Hey hon, help!  I need a tip!" And he responded in jest "Always be nice to your husband."  He meant it as a joke but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this is perhaps one of the best tips of all.

Be nice to your husband.  It sounds so simple and yet it's not always easy to do.  Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm routinely or deliberately not nice to my husband but, I'll be the first to admit that I could be a whole lot nicer.  I don't think I'm alone in confessing that when the going gets tough, the fella to whom I said "I do" can sometimes be made to feel like a great big "I don't."  Not in a I don't love you type of a way but, in a I don't have time for you, I don't have energy for you, I can hardly even muster up a smile for you and I at would rather fall into bed (by myself!) than talk to you. Now that's not good, is it?!  This is not at all what we envision when we stand at the end of the aisle waiting for our fairy tale to begin.

The reality, as we all know, is that a good marriage takes work.  And, raising kids is hard work.  And, with two working parents... well, it can lead to all work and no play. So a part of this week's tip is to make time to play -- not just with your kids but with your husband too.  An official playdate.  What the hell, make it an official date.  And try to do it frequently.  Like many couples, we have an ebb and flow, a feast or famine approach to finding time for each other; when we sense that famine approaching, we're quick to make amends and find some quality time together that isn't focused on paying bills, yard work, scheduling or meal planning.  And yes, my guy helps with all of that stuff, which is yet another reason why I should always be nice to him!

It sounds corny (and ok, I guess it IS corny), but knowing how hard (and expensive!) it can be to find a sitter and how precious our time together is, we've been known to squeeze in some quality time and a good laugh in the most unexpected ways -- for instance, there was the mid-day, mid-week trip to Costco, where simply tackling this dreaded chore together and sans kids made it more fun.  There are the nights we tuck the tots in early and try out a new recipe together -- something that was routine when we were dating and reminds us of those carefree days.  Once in a while, we pull out our old photo albums and a bottle of wine... just looking back at the fun we had and adventures we shared is a great way to ease the tension of the daily pressures we have today.

I suppose being nice is about much more than date nights and quality time though.  It's about thoughtfulness and caring.  I hate to admit it but in our house, my husband often comes last.  When I come home from work in a tizzy and get tackled by five crazy kids (and one 90 pound dog!), I sometimes forget the guy who made them and the amazing life we lead all possible.  The guy who is my rock.  Who reminds me not to sweat the small stuff.  Who makes me laugh.  Who makes me dinner!  This is a guy who deserves the best of me, not the leftovers.  So, with this in mind, I hope to live into this week's tip for many weeks, months and years to come.

Turns out that running just may be a team sport

I had a lot of anxiety about running the New York ½ Marathon on Sunday.  For starters, I’m not a distance runner.  I’m more of an ambling jogger who routinely trots along for four miles a few days a week.  Given this, one might expect there was an extensive training regimen leading up to Sunday’s 13.2 miles; alas, there was not.  Between snow, sleet, ice, five kids, a new job, dark mornings and darker evenings, it was hard enough to get in my typical weekly runs let alone amp up the mileage in any substantial way.  I did manage to get in a seven-miler and ten-miler a few weeks before race day; neither was very much fun and neither filled me with confidence that I would actually cross the finish line.  As my Mom so aptly put it on Saturday night, “Well, Ker, you know the way home if you can’t make it!” 

So, as Sunday morning dawned – actually, an hour or so before dawn, while that remarkable full moon was still in its splendor – I really wasn’t convinced that I’d be celebrating the completion of the half marathon; I thought it far more likely that the city sanitation trucks would sweep me up with the other stragglers.  Turns out I should have had a bit more faith in myself… and, as with most of life’s challenges, turns out that I most certainly didn’t do it alone.  There were facebook cheers and family fans and my running buddies who never doubted that I could do it and told me as much.  Then, perhaps most significantly, there was Des.

As I mentioned in my last post, entry to the New York ½ Marathon is lottery based, unless you’re an elite runner, which we’ve clearly established I am not!   Against the odds, Des and I both got a number.  Since he ran the New York Marathon (26.2 miles!) in November, I figured this would literally be a stroll through the park (Central Park) for him.  I figured we’d drive in together, line up together and then he would take off and I would linger behind, glad to have Lady GaGa and ABBA on my iPod to keep me company.  Instead, he stayed by my side when my hip and knee went somewhere between miles six and seven and I stayed by his when he visited the PortoPotty somewhere around the 11^th mile.

This is notable for a few reasons.  Like many couples, we have to do a fair amount of dividing and conquering.  With five kids, a dog, our jobs and the responsibilities they all entail, it’s the only way to get things done.  For better or worse, I’ve become somewhat accustomed to flying solo or simply administering tasks and making demands.  Our situation has been all the more intense the past two years as we juggled newborn triplets with two toddlers and then suffered through Des' brother’s losing battlle with lung cancer last summer.  Divide and conquer was key to our survival.  “You take Liam and Ciara to the park; I’ll feed and bathe the triplets.”  “You go to the hospital with Conor; I’ll take the five kids to the pool.”  “You take out the trash and walk the dog; I’ll clean up the kitchen and make the lunches.”  And so it goes.  You. Me. You. Me. But what about us?

Rediscovering the “us” was an unexpected by-product of our own amazing race.  We did it together.  We stayed together.  Those 13 miles had their ups and downs just like the past few years and the many more ahead of us.  But we did it together. And it was nice.  Really nice.  Running isn't typically known as a team sport but, after crossing the finish line together, Team Lyons is stronger than ever.