a weekend with us — valentine’s edition

There was a time when Valentine’s Day felt like it needed a reservation.

A dress.

A plan.

Now, it looks different.

It looks like us.

This weekend wasn’t extravagant. It wasn’t perfectly curated or overly planned. It was slow in some moments and full in others — the kind of weekend that feels ordinary while you’re in it, but meaningful when you look back.

On Saturday, we were pleasantly surprised by the weather; the sun was shining, and it was a warm day, which encouraged us to leave the house. We spent part of the day at the space museum, exploring at a leisurely pace and learning about how Pittsburgh is evolving into an innovative city in the field of space exploration. We even created space patches for an imaginary mission while watching our little one absorb everything around them. There’s something truly special about seeing the world through your child's curiosity, which brings even the quietest exhibits to life.

Later, we walked through the mall just to prolong the day a little longer. There were no big purchases and no rush—just enjoying each other's company. 

 

That afternoon, we stopped at Target on our way home. There were no big plans—just one of those spontaneous "while we’re out" moments.

 

He chose a little spaceship rocket toy for Liam for Valentine’s Day, while I added a queen sheet set to my cart—the one that had been sitting on my wishlist for weeks.

 

These weren’t extravagant gifts or dramatic surprises, just small tokens that conveyed, "I see you."

 

The next morning, the bed felt new with the fresh sheets, and Liam played with his rocket on the floor. Somehow, it all felt like its own kind of celebration.

 

Sunday was a slower day.

We organized my husband’s closet — using matching hangers, creating folding stacks, and making space. It wasn’t glamorous, but it felt like a partnership. Love sometimes looks like clearing shelves side by side. It looks like choosing to build a life that functions well for both of you.

Later that evening, I cooked dinner for the three of us: garlic parmesan steak, mashed potatoes, and garlic lemon asparagus. Candles were lit. Apple cider was poured — ours full strength, his diluted with water in a smaller cup. We sat down together, no restaurant noise, no distractions.

Just us.

Valentine’s Day doesn’t look like grand gestures in this season. It looks like shared errands. Closet organizing. Target runs for more hangers. It looks like deciding to make dinner feel special even if you’re still in pajamas.

It looks like heart balloons on the floor.

A card tucked on the table.

Soft light filling the living room

It looks like love lived in.

And maybe that’s what I’ve come to appreciate most — not productivity, not performance, not perfection — but presence.

Choosing to stay at the table a little longer.

Choosing to light the candles anyway.

Choosing each other in the middle of the everyday.

This weekend was simple.

And it was ours.