A Hopeless Romantic
I am the daughter of an English teacher. My mom would bring home her lesson plans and we would get a sneak peek at what she was teaching. While most little girls grew up with Disney Princesses, I grew up with Jane Austen and the Brontë Sisters. My mom would read sections of classic novels out loud and tell me what her students were in the middle of learning. My house always had some type of Broadway musical soundtrack playing. The most memorable one that comes to mind is Les Miserables. We were a family of 7 that shrunk by 4. I being the youngest of 5, loved curling up couch on the weekends with my parents watching a “Brit Flick”. I became a hopeless romantic!
Netflix and Chill
Growing up, I would go through a dusty cedar chest trying to find my mom’s first communion outfit from the 1950’s so that I could pretend to get married. I took my passion for romance and classic literature and made it a part of my life. I grew up performing on the stage. When I was too old to perform in musicals and plays, I started to get sucked into TV shows. I am ashamed to admit that I just discovered Netflix. It literally is the best and highlight of my day because I get to have a few hours to myself. I love watching romance and period movies. Now let me tell you mamas, I just found out the real meaning behind “Netflix and Chill”. What’s worse? My mother-in-law was the one who broke the news to me. I have been telling everyone how wonderful it is to just “Netflix and Chill”! It seems I am behind with the lingo these days!
It’s amazing how much time you lose when you are watching Netflix. You can just get lost binge-watching shows! My wedding anniversary was coming up and with all my Netflix watching going on, I decided I really did just need to “chill”. The best place to do that was away from my house, away from my child, and away from our new Netflix account. We headed up to the mountains for a few days. It was our first time leaving our son overnight with grandma and grandpa since he was born, over 3 years ago.
My Romantic Comedy
We spent two days alone in the mountains in a cabin. No internet and no cable. We went on walks together and became expert puzzle builders. The night before we left, we went horseback riding at sunset. It was the most perfect anniversary by far.
On the way back down the trail, I realized a written Netflix script doesn’t even come close to my life. I wake up nightly with a toddler who seems to have gone through every sleep regression known to man. Some mornings I’m cleaning smeared poop accidents that could be mistaken for artwork before I make my coffee. I don’t have time to put makeup on or straighten my hair. I have insecurities that reside beneath the surface. But, my husband knows me inside and out and chose to sit on a horse for 2 hours because he knew I would enjoy it. My husband writes me notes and leaves single roses on my pillow for me when I wake up. He cooks and cleans and gives me breaks at the end of the day, even though his day has been long and stressful. He always seems to know just the right thing to say to make me laugh.
Don’t forget to find the good in your own life during all of this. For me it’s him:
He is the Jamie to my Claire. He is my Mr. Darcy. He is undoubtedly the prestigious Mr. Rochester. “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” (Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights)
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