Sad Valentine

Single parenting is hard. But I've got a brief reprieve this week as the children and au pair are off to Florida to visit the in-laws. Now, at least, when I'm working 13 hours a day, I have fewer people to disappoint when I'm not home for dinner or can't watch TV for 2 hours or don't want to play.

Sleeping alone is hard. Although my housekeeper did get me a body pillow that at least fills the empty space. And, according to Kat, I can purchase anything else I need to fill the space, so to speak.

Know what is harder? The military took my best friend away. The guy who knows all my stupid stories and doesn't mind rehashing them now and then. They guy who thought I looked hot 10 pounds and a size or two ago. The guy who went to the movies with me every week, even the chick flicks (provided we threw in a few violent shootings and car chases now and then).

I have a Valentine date. Someone else who is separated by an ocean from their spouse because of their job. We're going to make do with each other as company for dinner, on this night when the rest of the world is renewing connections with the people they love. I guess having dinner with a charming and affable Dutchman with a slight gap between his teeth and some serious hair loss is better than eating alone.

But I'd rather be with that guy who bought me a dozen roses 16 years ago and played me the song he wrote (and later recorded for our wedding).

Unfortunately, he has a prior commitment.

Don't forget to tell the ones you love that you do.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

PS Pity party donations welcome (flowers, jewelry, lotion . . . just no chocolates. Goes straight to my ass).