on planning, expectations, and spring storms

The other night I was pretty excited about dinner. I had bought two beautiful artichokes on a day trip to St. Louis, MO (where I got a bunch of maternity clothes, including 5 light as air sundresses) at Whole Foods. I have never made artichokes, but that's part of the fun for me, so I got to work and went online to find a recipe. I found one for "stuffed artichokes," fulfilling my tendency (or, as Jeremy would call it, my maddening tendency) to choose a recipe I've never made or tasted before. So I set to work, got the artichokes going, got the Trader Joe's ravioli boiling, got the butter tomato sauce going... and, Jeremy was an hour and fifteen minutes late.

Deer in our front yard at 6 p.m.

One hour later

He did have a good excuse, but it did throw a teensy wrench into my dinner plans. As I waited for him, I turned down the lights (it was storming), lit some candles, turned off the television, and envisioned a quiet, romantic night, where we would converse excitedly at the table about our day and then cuddle on the couch and just enjoy each other's company.

Dinner was gross. I couldn't eat the artichokes or the ravioli. I think I had waited too long to eat, and so my stomach completely refused to participate in my romantic plans. A big part of it though, was that the artichokes had no flavor. Jeremy just ate the stuffing out of them (ew). I had some leftover cake that I doused in macerated strawberries and whipped cream. It was lackluster as well. Jeremy turned on the t.v. I crumpled onto the couch, which I abandoned for my bed not too long after. It was a pretty disappointing night.

It seems like whenever I plan or get my hopes up for something, it fails miserably. Here's the thing though: did I ever think to pray for Jeremy so that when he came home from work (after being gone for over 12 hours) he would be able to relax? I had been home all day long, doing whatever I wanted, watching PBS, reading, going for a walk, while he dealt with people at work, then people at Home Depot, then the storm, and yet I expected that he would just be wooed by the candlelight. I think I got him mixed up with someone else: me. What would have gotten him to relax? The t.v. on. Hamburgers and french fries. Maybe some ice cream. Helloo, Alanna. Maybe you could tell him what kind of night you're hoping it will be. I just miss it sometimes, you know?

The next night he came home sick from work. I made this and this. And it was fabulous. And then we went out and got shakes and then lolled around, watching a movie. It was much, much better, perhaps mostly so because I wasn't thinking of expectations fulfilled or denied. I just enjoyed being around him, running around in the storm, seeking out a milk chocolate shake.

And then the next night, last night, we unexpectedly were able to get two couple friends of ours to our favorite pizza place, where we ate and talked for two hours. Then he and I went to the grocery store, where I bought the biggest box of Lucky Charms I could find and he got ice cream. We came home and watched Modern Family on Hulu, cuddled up on the couch. Much more romantic than artichokes by candlelight. And much more fun because Jeremy was relaxed and happy, and I was able to just enjoy being with him.