A Tired Mom’s Letter to Cupid

February 10, 2016

Posted By: Shaunescy


Dear Cupid:

I glanced at the calendar today and noticed that it is February. This means the dreaded, hyped-up, drowning-in-expectation, florist-favored holiday Valentine’s Day is approaching. Cupid, please don’t take my comments too personally – but

we really need to talk. I understand that you, like Santa, had your original intentions hijacked just a bit by our material, sugar-obsessed culture.

As you know, I am a happily married woman. (By the way, I appreciate your efforts on my behalf back in the ‘90s.) Over the years, my hubby and I have developed our own ritual for Valentine’s Day. For the two weeks leading up to the big day, we discuss the wisdom of this overly commercialized holiday and threaten to boycott. Then, filled with fear and panic, we cave to social pressure and scramble to devise a way to celebrate our love for all to see.

If we dare to skip your yearly ritual, does that mean our 18-year marriage is flagging? And what message are we sending our children if mom and dad are not partaking in this, the most romantic day of the year? Thanks to the public school system, they have been brought up on this annual sugar fest of love and candy.

But what should we do? Kissing is out. We can never be caught kissing on the lips as this evokes a loud and disgusted, “Ewww....” from our teens. So Cupid, I’m asking for some help here. How can I make February 14 all about romance? How can I make my husband feel like you have just shot him with your arrow of love so that he sees me as that young woman he fell in love with? Do you carry any other ammunition than amour? Honestly, to really get in the mood for romance I could use a shot of adrenalin.

Cupid, could you amp up my libido just enough to compensate for my menopausal fatigue? I confess that I spend more time dreaming about a nap than romance these days.

I am sure you can relate to not being all that you used to be. You were a handsome and svelte fellow back in the Roman days, then that Victorian era hit and you morphed into a short, chubby

cherub. I noticed that your extra weight has not affected your self-esteem as you fly around half naked. Your confidence rivals that of those brave ladies in the Dove ads. Would you dip

an arrow into some of that self-acceptance and hit this middle-aged body? Failing that, maybe direct an arrow at the power lines on the evening of February 14 to kill the lights?

Tell me, Cupid, was it you who decided that chocolate was a requirement for the day? Much as I love the stuff, it is not exactly part of my paleo efforts to lose these love handles.

I think many of your mommy customers will also be avoiding chocolate in an attempt to fit into their skinny jeans. Cupid, you really should keep up with the eating trends. Maybe you have that grain brain I’m reading about these days.

If you are going to suggest that we enjoy a romantic dinner out, may I request that you shoot an arrow to my hubby sufficiently ahead of Valentine’s Day so that he can reserve a table somewhere that doesn’t welcome children? And can you get us into the early seating because you know how tired I get after 9? Also, please fold some cash into your arrow because we are trying to stick to a budget.

Despite my whining, Cupid, I do appreciate your efforts because the world can always use more love. Maybe if your aim is true this year and I get some of those naps, I will be more welcoming next year.

Yours with love and a yawn,



Sue LeBreton is a health and wellness journalist with two children, one husband and two small, fluffy dogs. She loves chocolate but considers it a lame Valentine’s Day gift.

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