I said yes

From @mediamindjen

Most girls don’t remember their engagements. They say it’s because they are caught off guard or so excited. I was both, but I remember every detail about that perfect summer night. It had been a long day at work. The air was sticky and I was embarking on the long commute home. This trip marked my last drive in the coupe. We were trading her in tonight and picking up our new Camaro.

A few days ago, I had started scheming with our sales guy to put the body kit on the car that Kevin had been drooling over. I couldn’t wait to see his face, so it was really important to me that I beat him there. It shouldn’t of been a problem considering I get off a half hour before him, even though I was about 20 minutes further away. Just as I was about to get on the freeway, I got a message from him. He was so excited to get the car that he would be leaving early. I panicked. Now, I would have to step on it. I didn’t make it far before seeing the construction grid lock up ahead. I made a quick decision and took the first turnoff I saw. Now I would have to weave my way through the city, traffic lights, and rush hour congestion. My skin was getting clammy and hot. Great, just what I needed especially since my car no longer had air conditioning that worked. I could feel my eyes starting to well up. There was no way I could miss this. I pressed on, praying, hoping, and swearing that the commute would be a smooth one.

I arrived at the dealer nearly 40 minutes later, thankfully ahead of Kevin. They had the car all detailed and looking great, but I couldn’t help but notice that the kit looked a little out of place. “Is it the right colour?” I asked. “yup,” the guy responded “you just need to come back and get it painted when you have a chance. It’ll only take a couple days.” My heart sank. I had used the rest of my savings to surprise Kevin with the kit, having no idea that the quote they gave me didn’t include painting it to match the car. I felt so small and stupid.

I remember staring at the sales lot pavement when a familiar base boom caught my attention. I could hear my man coming down the street before I could see him. I couldn’t help but smile. I knew how excited he would be. He rolled in and parked next to our new edition. He looked so handsome and important in his suit, sunglasses, and perfectly groomed hair. My heart beamed with pride. He looked over the car as happy as could be and I slid into his side to hug him and kiss him on the cheek. “What do you think?” I asked, half hoping he wouldn’t notice my rookie error. “It’s great,” he said and I knew from the tone in his voice that he was as puzzled as I had first been. I immediately jumped to an explanation. “Surprise! I wanted you to have the body kit but I guess we have to come back to get it painted.” the salesmen did his best to bail me out as well, but Kevin didn’t seem to care. He was really happy with the gesture and pulled me in for a kiss.

Back inside, we were making all the final arrangements when suddenly we found ourselves alone  in the office. Kevin turned to me with a twinkle in his eye and said “Are you sure you wanna marry me?” It wasn’t a proposal… at least I didn’t think it was. “Of course,” I said smiling back before we were interrupted by the manager.

Before long, we had the keys to our new car and decided to take it out for a drive. “I wanna show you the lake,” I said, speaking of fond childhood memories I had told Kevin about over the past few months. It had been years since I had been there but I was convinced it wasn’t far.

“Let’s go home first,” Kevin suggested and I was relieved because I desperately needed to freshen up. I only had a few minutes to pull myself together. I thought it was weird Kevin hadn’t followed me up to our bedroom and then it dawned on me: was he up to something? Was tonight the night my life would change forever? I didnt want to get too fixated on hoping for something that might not come. After all, we were still learning to live together, balance our cheque books, and had only been dating for about six months. Yup, I rationalized, this was too soon and so I got ready as quickly as possible.

When Kevin did come up, he said that we should wear matching Maple Leaf jerseys. Was he kidding? It was a million degrees outside and those things never breathe on me. I’d be a disaster again in no time. “I don’t want to,” I said but Kevin insisted and something inside me knew not to argue this one.

So, I threw on the one that had Armstrong written across the back and we were on our way. 45 minutes later still no lake. We had passed several beach turnoffs, just none looking like the ones I remembered from my childhood. We decided to use our new OnStar feature to rescue us and before long we were on the right path. Also in our path were two wild horses. As we came around a blind corner, the massive creatures stood stubbornly in the road. Instantly, I worried about oncoming cars not being able to see them. Kevin knew I wouldn’t let up until we got them safe so he pulled into a driveway just up the road. I hopped out right away and ignored the private property sign to jump the barbwired country fence and head down the dusty road to the house concealed by tall trees and thick bush. A young couple was sitting on a porch swing, clearly startled that I had come up the drive. “Do you have horses?” I yelled. They looked confused so I called again, “down the road are two horses. Do they belong to you?” They assured me they didn’t and thought they must’ve got out of the neighboring farm. “Do you have their number? Can you call them? People can’t see them around that corner.” But my efforts were fruitless and so I turned around to come up with Plan B with Kevin.

By the time I got back to him, he had made two friends and had safely gotten them off the road. “I’ve been flagging down cars to let them know,” he said. I loved the gesture and how much he was willing to go along with my animal crusades. By the time we got to our car a few yards away, we noticed the horses had taken off again. This time they were chasing each other in a field. Clearly, they were energized by the thunderstorm on the horizon. It was quite symbolic: two “wild” horses, electrified by the storm, completely wrapped up with each other.

But, if we were going to find the lake, we had better do it fast. We decided to use On Star for the first time. The directions led us through a small shore community and I knew we weren’t in the right place but with dusk setting in and a storm coming, we would have to make the best of it and take pictures of our new baby while we could. The road we were on led right to the water.

Kevin and I got out, met at the front of the car and arm in arm, gazed at the setting sun. “Let’s get some pictures,” I said breaking the silence. “You go over by the car.” I happily snapped pictures of my beaming boyfriend before I could no longer resist the urge to embrace him.

I skipped over to him and threw my arms around him. “I love you,” I said.

“I love you too,” he replied as he pulled me in for a long hug.

I remember telling myself not to rush the moment and to just enjoy being in his arms. Just as I completely let myself go, I felt him pull away but he was still standing close.

I could tell by the look in his eye that he wasn’t going anywhere. He had something to say.

“Do you want that name on your back to be official?” he asked, referring to the jersey I was wearing with his name on it. “You know I do,” I replied. As the words came out of my mouth, I felt Kevin gently touch my forearm, his other hand was in his pocket. He was pulling a ring out of his pocket while trying to get on one knee between me and the car.

“Baby!!! Shut Up!!” I exclaimed as I smacked him across the shoulder. I couldn’t believe I just hit him as he was proposing.

But, having learnt me well over the last several months, Kevin didn’t even miss a beat. “Jennifer,” he started, using my full first name, which he rarely did. “You are my best friend, my light, my everything. These last six months have made me the happiest I’ve ever been and I want to spend the rest of my life with you… Will you marry me.” Only one word came to mind “yes!!” I said throwing my arms around him.

It was official: @tvarmstrong and @mediamindjen were going to get hitched.

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The Ring

From @tvarmstrong

@mediamindjen likes nice things. If the Louis Vuitton purse or Tiffany’s wallet wasn’t enough of a give away, she made it very clear when she sent me a link to a Tiffany’s ring she liked very early on in our relationship. What’s not to like? It was gorgeous. For $20,100 it should be.

The price seems so bizarre to me, really? Do you need the extra 100 bucks on there for a $20,000 dollar ring? Jen was jokingly sure I could barder them down to an even 20K. But it didn’t seem that unreasonable. I’ve spent far more than that in legal BS that got me nothing. This would show my love to the love of my life for the rest of our lives. So 20K seemed reasonable. It would take a while but it was doable.

Until I chatted with a friend who had Jen’s taste. When I showed her the ring, her jaw dropped at the price. “I will hook you up with my girl, we can cut that in half, then just buy a Tiffany’s box, done.” The thought of starting an engagement off with a lie wasn’t appealing. If I could get a great ring for a fraction of the cost, my fiscally minded Jen would approve. Or so I kept telling myself that.

My friend has ties with the Edmonton Oilers, apparently those guys like to buy big fat rings for their ladies. So they know people. I sent a text to the mystery number. Within minutes I was saving thousands of dollars. Nothing like cutting out the middle man. It was set. The same ring. Nothing near the Tiffany’s price. Until I asked what else she has… 2.5 additional carets later the deal was done.

A few weeks later I stopped at the bank to cash in some of my line of credit, all the ladies knew what it was for and they were all excited for me. I got the ring in my hand an hour later complete with the ethical Canadian Diamond stamp of approval. The ring was amazing. Now to come up with the proposal.

Cold Feet, bruised ego

From @mediamindjen

We survived one of the cardinal relationship tests: traveling together. This was especially significant for me. I once broke up with someone I had been dating for three and a half years after one week of camping. Somehow @tvarmstrong and I managed to go a whole vacation without driving each other crazy. For me, that trip proved he would always take care of me.

While he may have all my emotional needs fulfilled, he didn’t, nor should he, have all my financial needs covered. Back from our vacation and back to reality (especially the shopping spree bills from our trip), I knew we needed a plan. My savings were on their last legs and on top of that, I had just found out my car needed a slew of repairs and had actually been through the equivalent of a chop shop before it came into my naive possession.

So, fresh off the move to Edmonton with no new job and mounting bills, Kevin and I needed to figure something out quick. He suggested we control our spending by putting our finances together. The suggestion made me want to throw up.

It was instinctual and alarming. I have never lived with someone before, let alone given them free reign to my bank accounts. I had a system in place. I did not want him messing with that system.

Truthfully, part of me didn’t want to wake up to a zero balance either because I had been taken down a garden path or we just assumed something about the other’s income. All these scenarios were swirling through my head and it was hard to know what the right move was. I told @tvarmstrong that his idea made sense but we would need to wait.

What I didn’t say was “until we’re engaged or married” because the last thing I wanted was him to feel pressure from some perceived ultimatum. He let it slide and I hit the employment sites hard. It couldn’t be a worse time to look for work: the start of summer holidays. I put out resume after resume. Some jobs I could do in my sleep, didn’t even call me back. Others where the interviews went outstanding ended up going with an internal candidate. I didn’t get it. When I pull out all the stops, I get what I want. Every time…. every time.

Not this time. Finally, I got a bite. It was for a network station. I knew from a friend who worked promotions in Calgary that the pay would be less then desirable but she said she loved what she did so maybe there was some kind of trade off. I hoped for the best and ended up getting the position. It was a two hour commute each day but at least I had a steady pay cheque. That brought some relief until I got that first pay cheque. It was less than half of what I was used to making. “Maybe there’s some sort of delay,” I told myself, thinking that maybe I hadn’t received a full cheque since I just started. But no, the second cheque proved that my new budget just time warped me back nearly a decade. I was now a starving student again. My ego has never been more deflated.

 

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The one

From @tvarmstrong

Once we finally got everything unpacked, I was surprised to see how well our things meshed. As well as as NASCAR, NFL and Bob Marley could mix with New York and Paris stuff. Somehow, it all worked.

I’d introduced @mediamindjen to NASCAR during one of her visits, she was a typical “they just do circles” person until I explained a race, everything that happens before, during and after. The speed that can never be truly felt by watching on tv. Everything that happens during that 15 second pit stop, from air pressures to wedge to tape on the grill. How any combination can make or break a race.

She was buying in, but a certain Rowdy one made the sell easier. A simple video of Kyle Busch trying to get around Jimmie Johnson had Jen hooked. That is my guy! Jen could be somewhat inpatient while driving as well but to see Kyle Busch take his road rage out at 200 miles per hour, Jen was all in. Not to mention she loves M&M’s.

To make Jen feel at home I bought her a #18 die cast to mesh with my collection of more than 50 NASCAR die casts. My favourites remained on the mantel piece despite all of Jens family and friends asking when she was going to make me move or box them. “I like them,” she would say, which made adding her #18 Kyle Busch car that much better.

Watching a race, Jen turns to me and says what’s your favourite track? That was easy. Talladega.

Not because of the Will Farrell movie but because I mastered that track on playstation for a drinking game in college. That and it was the most exciting track on the circuit with cars moving 200 mph separated by less than you’d park your car away from another at the mall.

The next day I got an email from Jen, it had pricing, flights and hotels to go to the race in Alabama in a few short weeks. She was cute, I laughed it off. With a “yeah right, one day” response. @mediamindjen is fast on the keys, I swear she responded before I pressed send with “I’m serious.”
I started typing “stop teasing…” When I realized she wasn’t. Jen and I were on a different path now, one where the old rules don’t apply. A path where “can’t” or “shouldn’t” is replaced with “let’s go”. With her, it’s life to the fullest; life in the fast lane.

I deleted the text, replacing it with “let’s go.”

A few weeks later we were renting a camaro in Alabama and stupidly excited for the race. We stayed in a, let’s say less than 5 star hotel that night, sprung up at 5 am and drove to the track.

NASCAR nation was waking up, a slow trickle of cars were alongside us. Then I saw it, “this is Talladega” – a sign I’d only seen on tv and now it was in front of me. I looked over at Jen, she had a huge smile as she read the sign out load and proud with a “baby!” at the end.

We hit the swag trucks, loading up on #18 stuff for Jen and gear from my guy Kasey Kahne. Then headed for the infield. Jen had snagged us some pit passes. She noticed there was a tin can full of used lug nuts for $1. She said let’s get some! I looked at the circular items. Then at Jen, at the track and back again. I was going to get her something round. But it wasn’t a NASCAR lug nut.

Moving Day!!!

From @mediamindjen

I’m not sure either of us really slept that night. The slow leak in the air mattress had us on the floor by morning. But, none of that mattered. Today, I was saying goodbye to five restless years in Calgary. I learnt every lesson the hard way – some of them more then once. I had finally found my prince charming. The one who had come 375 kilometers to sweep me off my feet and onto a rickety moving truck.

First order of the day was to hit up Starbucks. They knew me by name now and knew of the move. There was such a momentum in the air. Our love and excitement was so infectious that the baristas had a twinkle in their eye for goodness sakes. That or I was starting to see the world differently. Maybe they always had a twinkle in their eye and I had been too emotionally disconnected to even really notice the person who got me my coffee every morning. Kevin helped change all that. He renewed my spirit and awoke all my senses. He was my light at the end of the tunnel.

With our caffeine in hand, we were off to get the classic of all moving trucks: a do-it-yourself U-Haul. For some reason, we thought it would be terribly romantic to load up what little possessions I had left, on our own. Unfortunately we (okay mostly me) had grossly underestimated what was left, especially the weight of it. On top of that, in my true fashion, I scheduled our day tight. We only had a handful of hours to pack and tidy up the loft, pick up our new bed (which I nervously picked out on my own), and be on our way down a highway that’s unpredictable in the winter during the best of times. Oh, and we wanted to be home and unloading by the time we would normally see the kids on the first day we had them. It was important to me that they felt included in this big change. It was a memory I wanted the whole family to experience – my new family.

It ended up being the worst pack job I have ever seen. We started off strategically organizing the back of the truck but as time and heavy boxes drained us of our energy, we just started dumping stuff anywhere it would fit. We had the room since neither of us could visualize how much cargo space we needed, we ended up getting a truck that was way too big. Somehow we did it. By early afternoon, everything was loaded, the tenant had popped by, and any signs that I had ever lived there at all were gone. I locked the door for the last time, pausing for just a moment. I wanted to make sure I was taking it all in.

With that, I picked up the cat crate with one hand and Kevin grabbed the other. We walked down the hallway to the awaiting vehicles. We’d be driving separately. Me in my little Mercedes coupe that had been weighted down with one last load for the last week and him, Mr. Car Guy, in a laughable moving van.

There was definitely no turning back now. There was only road ahead of us that would take me to a whole new world, as Alyssa (his five year old) liked to describe it.

As we got closer to Edmonton, Kevin and I got separated further and further by traffic. You’d think it would be me pulling away but instead he was driving that U-Haul like a bat out of hell and I was growing more frustrated the closer we got to our street. Why would he ditch me like that? He knew how important it was to me to see the kids react to the moving truck being there. The more I thought about it and what I might be missing out on, the more upset I got. I called him in tears. It wasn’t turning out like I had envisioned. First I was late getting to the airport, now he was going to get to the kids first. I was already drained and in the back of my mind knew we still had a whole truck to unload that night. Still complaining into the phone as I turned the corner to come down our street, I saw Kevin pulled over. He had been waiting for me. I can’t remember what he was saying to reassure me but I’ll never forget that gentle smile on his face or the way his eyes sparkled at me. We were home.

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Unexpected arrival

From @tvarmstrong

Her dad picked me up from work to take me to the airport. He was a cool guy. We went to a junior hockey game a few weeks prior and had a great time. This was checking some of my baggage too. My former father in law was a character, well meaning but short visits were best. Shorter conversations better. I was moving this guys daughter in with me. Being the father of a daughter, I fully realized what that means.

But @mediamindjen’s dad seemed to be a fan of us. Happy to open his family up to me, and even more excited to have his daughter coming home. The drive to the airport was faster then I’d planned. After checking in, I realized I could jump on a flight an hour earlier for a mere $75 upgrade. Done.

An hour earlier with the girl I planned on spending the rest of my life with. It landed earlier then expected too. I texted Jen while waiting for the plane door to open. “Baby, what’s for dinner?”

I thought her response was a joke. “You’re already here? I’m stuck in traffic, I’m 20 mins away”. Suddenly, that $75 didn’t seem so well spent after all. She told me wait by an exit, but she wasn’t showing up.

The minutes passed. I was starving.

I ran out of work as quickly as I could to get here. As the growls in my stomach grew so did my annoyance. It was the first time I was annoyed with Jen, actually. I knew things happened that were out of her control and my annoyance wasn’t really directed at her, just the situation.

Then it hit me. that’s one of the benefits to being single. You’re not relying on someone, someone can’t screw up your plan by being late. But those thoughts settled when I heard the bass from her little black Mercedes Benz coming ripping down the road. She braked infront of me, a look of, almost shame on her face. “I’m so sorry!” she yelled as I opened the door.

It took me a minute to comprehend, but more relationship baggage was there for me. The “always late and never caring” I was use to from past relationships. But Jen cared, and she felt so bad for being late. In a twisted way it felt good that she felt bad. She did care. I didn’t want her to feel bad, I said it was okay. My stomach just needed food.

After a few minutes, a few bites and a few steps, all the annoyance was gone overcome by an overwhelming surge of fear-excitement when we walked into her loft. Every thing was packed, except the blow up mattress that @mediamindjen had specifically bought for when I first brought the kids for a sleepover. It made for an interesting bed as there was a small leak combined with our weight difference. Jen was up higher I was practically on the floor. But it was surprisingly comfortable. Besides, tomorrow, we’d be sleeping in our new bed in a different city. This was it. No turning back now.

Hunted becomes the hunter

From mediamindjen

I’ve never been more happy to pack in my life. I did everything on my own: got the boxes, collected the newspaper, posted items for sale…. I had a big smile on my face as I wrapped up my precious keepsakes, preparing for a move I never thought I would ever make again.   In the grand scheme of things, everything had gone relatively smoothly. We seemed to effortlessly go with the flow. What started as we’ll date for a year and see where we’re at, turned into once I find a job in Edmonton, I’d move. That quickly turned into if I find a job or renter then I’ll move – whatever comes first.

We were determined to blaze a trail of compromises in order to be together. Little did we know, we were starting to blaze through our bank accounts too. There were certain compromises I wasn’t willing to make. Moving in together meant we were starting fresh. For me, that meant out with the old and in with the new bedroom furniture. Neither of us wanted any karma remnants of lovers past. I would also need a new laptop since work wouldn’t be supplying one anymore. Making the move also meant saying goodbye to certain clients and residual income. But, I was okay with all that because we had worked our network magic and lined up a sweet gig that paid just as much as the job I was leaving in Calgary. It had taken five years of unforgiving hours to get me to this point and I was ready to cash in.

Or so I had thought. As it turns out, my prospective employer was not. I was back to square one with a even closer move date. There were only a couple days left at my Calgary gig and one more pay cheque to go.

Nothing stresses me out more than finances. I watched my parents struggle and was determined to never be in the same boat. I needed to know where every dime was coming from and have every conceivable bill accounted for. Unfortunately, when it comes to moving there are a lot of unforeseen costs. Before I knew it, I had burned through most of the money I got from selling my furniture. Plus, now I didn’t even have an interview in the foreseeable future. I was starting to panic.

It felt like I had been swept into a huge wave and now needed to swim with the current, desperate to keep my head above water. I was so worried that Kevin was going to be disappointed in me, especially with the lost opportunity. I was torn. It was good pay but something wasn’t right. The contract was sketchy and they couldn’t or wouldn’t answer a lot of basic questions I had in order to do my job effectively. I knew walking away was the right thing but had we been too careless with making the move so quickly? All I could do was hope he was as serious as I was and that he would still show up to help me move. I tried job hunting as the move drew closer but there was so much to do in the final few days. Hours were eaten up in seconds. Before I knew it, I was anxiously awaiting Kevin’s flight to come in. Tomorrow is moving day.

 

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Love can’t buy…

From @tvarmstrong

The news came fast and somewhat unbelievable. Although it was what we hoped and planned for, I was having a hard time comprehending what @mediamindjen was saying, “I’m coming home.”

To help me deal with the gravity of the situation I had a chat with my angels. I asked them if they’d be okay with Jen staying here. They were excited. Alyssa loved Jen but did not like those car rides to Calgary. “We don’t have to do the long drive to ‘her world’ anymore?” she asked. One of the first stories Jen read to Alyssa was “where the wild things are” from that point on Calgary was referred to as Jen’s world and Edmonton was our world. “Nope, no more long car rides.”

“Can Lola come?” Lincoln asked. “Yes,” I responded less excitedly. Of course I’d have to open my home to a feline as well. I’m a dog person, but a retired dog person. After putting a dog down a few years ago, I swore I’d never have a dog again. The thought of having a cat never even crossed my mind; however, I’d also written off falling in love and living with a girl again.

Their excitement fed mine. Our lives were about to change. However, love can’t pay the bills. Jen was moving here not only without a job but actually minus on the bottom line. Although she found a tenant, she took a financial hit each month – paying out hundreds of dollars a month in condo fees to make it work. I had also already added to my expenses by doing something I avoided for over a year…. When Jen started visiting more she needed the internet for some client work. I felt like a bad boyfriend when she’d go to Starbucks to use the WiFi. Also, when I was gone to work she’d get a little bored as my boy movie collection got old really fast. Being in news and connected all day, I liked not having cable or internet in house. It provided a sanctuary. But I added those services and their expense to my already shaky single-parent bottom-line. So my math isn’t the best but we now we’re paying out more to live together… That was a bit scary, as I’m well aware finances can kill relationships.

Tough conversation

This was beginning to look hopeless. It was a renters market in Calgary and even though I was taking a hit on my loft, I still wasn’t attracting desirable candidates. There was the apparent executive who just needed a payroll advance to cover the damage deposit and first month’s rent, the kid who worked on the rigs and right after shaking his hand asked, “So… How are the neighbors with noise? You know, in case I have a few friends over.”  Then there were all the missed appointments. People who sounded so excited over the phone that didn’t even bother to show up a few hours later. Just when I was beginning to think that our romantic rollercoaster was about to come to a screeching halt, I got the email I had been waiting for. A lovely young woman with a stable job and appreciation of the neighborhood wanted to book a viewing.

Before I knew it, I was drawing up my first tenant contract and signing away the very home that had restored my spirit. It was definitely a life changing moment. I knew that not just a chapter but a book in my life had closed and it was time to start a new one.

With that came a very difficult conversation. No, not with @tvarmstrong - he was thrilled with the news, of course. I would have to let my boss know that I was leaving. In any ordinary circumstance, this wouldn’t be a problem. Except now I had finally found a really great team who were investing in me with some exceptional training. I was included in meetings that I had only heard about in other organizations. Being included in those meetings meant being privy to sensitive information and candid, yet playful comments from the executive team. Unfortunately, most of the topics revolved around budget or lack there of. In fact, just a couple days ago one of the senior managers joked that no one was allowed to quit anymore because they recruitment budget was blown. With that hanging over my head and the days ticking down to the end of the month, I knew I had to have the conversation sooner than later. As luck would have it, it was also the middle of a long weekend. So I did what any nervous 29 year old professional who feared and loathed confrontation would do: I sent my boss an email and delicately explained the situation.

I also gave her the heads up that my official resignation would be coming Tuesday morning. As soon as I pressed “send” I braced for impact. I had just sentenced myself to two days of mental torture. Did I do the right thing? Would she give me the cold shoulder when I got in? Would she email me back to say not to bother at all? I was just about to walk away from the computer when I noticed I had a new message. She had responded from her blackberry. Instead of reprimanding me for a short-lived tenure, she showed an amazing about of compassion and understanding. We would tell the team together on Monday. I felt myself take a deep breath. The tears welled up not just because of the kindness she treated me with but because now I could confirm to Kevin that this was all really happening. We were going to move in together in less than three weeks.

V Day, D Day?

From @tvarmstrong

Needless to say Cupid shot a couple of love-laced arrows our way, but now the day devoted to the little diaper wearing fairy was quickly approaching.

I despise Valentine’s Day.

A Hallmark made holiday, the day roses triple in price, the day restaurant reservations are hard to come by, a day to profess your love. Really? Gag!

I’m a firm believer that if you really love someone then show them every day, not just February 14. However, I was totally prepared to buy in for @mediamindjen. I was in unchartered territory as far as this whole love thing goes, I’d certainly never felt anything like this before, so why not give this Valentine Day thing a shot?

Despite making room in my house, driving down the QE2 as often as possible to pack more of her stuff, search for #yeg jobs in her field, and telling her I love her every other hour; I bought in to adding that “special” Valentine’s Day gesture. There’s the easy way, flowers, chocolates, lame teddy bears with “I love you hearts” but I’m pretty sure Jen would find that offensive. I needed something big, something that goes above and beyond our every day very genuine, very meaningful gestures. The more ideas that would pop up, the more I found my dislike of valentine day resurfacing.

I started thinking bigger, like jewelry; diamonds are a girl’s best friend. But a quick glance at a flyer I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Anything worthy of being worn by Jen was just a bit more than flowers and chocolates. My account had not recovered from the Christmas season. Add that to Jen’s love of Tiffany’s & Co. and this plan was destine to fail. Just as my frustration was ready to boil over the phone rang. Were her ears ringing? We started into a conversation about the day, but she picked up quickly I wasn’t really into it. She pried for details, trying to figure out what was on my mind. I couldn’t tell her. Shaking it off as quickly as possible. But as usual she read my mind. “So, see all the valentines stuff everywhere? So stupid.”

Cupid’s arrow zinged past my eyes as they almost popped out of my head. “You’re not a fan?”

“It’s so lame…” she continued, adding all the reason she disagrees with the fabricated holiday, including the fact that it marked the anniversary of a dear friend passing away from a long battle with cancer. We agreed no gifts or anything silly for February 14, just our usual status quo.

The kids and I drove down the weekend before Valentines Day, in the back of my mind I was still wondering if Jen was playing, was she expecting something? Did she plan something? Should I have brought something just in case?

I walked into her loft, and right away spotted a red envelope and two small gifts. My heart sank, the kids ran for them, Jen had a big smile, OH NO! But as quickly as my heart skipped a beat, it all made sense. Two small gifts for the kids, with cards. The gesture made it the best Valentine’s Day ever.