I used to hate Valentine's Day, too.

Once upon a time, I had as much disdain for Vday as most people. At best, it was obligatory. At worst, it was an unnecessary reminder.

Funny thing is, now that I am at perhaps the least romantic time of my life -- trying to remember my marriage with baby vomit in my hair and banana mush on my sleeve -- I finally have found some love for the puffy heart holiday.  Yup, we embrace all the cheesiness that is the giant box of substandard chocolate.

Enter our fourth annual Valentine's Day Dance. It's pretty simple. We clear out all the furniture, get dressed up, turn on some music, and make total idiots of ourselves.

The last two years, things ended badly. Small children aren't exactly great at turning off the music to go to bed. So this year, I remembered to get a couple of pictures at the start.

I really need to work on taking better pictures with a flash. Gah. (But the memories are good, and that's what matters. Right?)

Then it was time to hit the dance floor. Believe it or not, this was Brendan's big move.  This, and rocking back and forth. I think we all know where he gets his swag.

He was not a fan of being dressed up.

And then he was upset for some reason.

He probably noticed this.

That's right. Just when we couldn't get any dorkier, we did.

 

 As usual, dancing generally turns into just climbing.

And lifting.

 And that was Valentine's Day 2014.