Valentines Day means a lot to me and our family. Growing up, my family always had pink heart pancakes for breakfast and a valentines fairy. My mom would stand guard in the kitchen as my Dad would place cards and treats on our doorstep. Then he would ring the doorbell and run around the house and come in the back door as my mom innocently called, "Who could that be at the door?" When we were young it was so thrilling and magical. When we got to be teenagers we still obliged my parents and carried on with the tradition.
Fast forward years later to the year when Matt and I were engaged. Not knowing the height of my expectations, Matt was very confused when just taking me to dinner on Valentines night was not enough to satisfy me. Seeing I was upset, but not knowing the reason, he took me home and dropped me off. That turned out to be fuel to the fire of my emotions and finally I exploded. Poor guy.
This year Valentines Day was wonderful. Per tradition, we had pink heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast. We made valentines with the boys and had them exchange treats with each other.
We got a babysitter and went out later that night. I gathered a few ideas of places for us to eat. It was quickly clear that dinner was going to be tricky. The Italian place was too busy, the Ethiopian place scared us, and the sushi place was being remodeled. We ended up at a Guatemalan/Salvadorian bodega that was an adventure, but good. We actually stuffed ourselves silly with chips and Pupusas. Then we went to the stake dance. The band that was supposed to play had transportation problems and didn't arrive until 9 pm. But it was not all a loss, they still had music playing and we had a great time dancing the night away.
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