Even though Rach recently changed the name of her blog to Life Ever Since, I still think of her as “Donut’s Mama“. That first twitter-er that you meet just kind of sticks, you know? The little diva that she writes about, her “Donut”, is freshly birthday-ed (meaning, of course, that she just turned ONE).  Her mama is one of the hostesses with the mostesses of Friday’s Life’s Lessons (which are always fun to read, even if you don’t link up). She’s also one of the most honest bloggers, with her heart right smack on her sleeve. 

Rach is one of those people that you instinctively want to protect and take under your wing. To sit down with and say, “girl, you are FABULOUS. Why don’t you know that?!” Rach is a fantastic mother and friend but has a hard time believing it sometimes, I think. So, let’s give her some extra love today (not the romantic kind, even though that’s what she’s here to talk about).

Without further ado, Donut’s Mama, Rach!

Growing up, I had all these ideas about marriage and romance.  I thought about romantic dinners by the glow of candlelight or being whisked off to exotic isles where I’d don a fabulous beach wardrobe.  I imagined a steady stream of rose petals and lovelorn notes.  I always wore makeup in my little fantasies too.  
Then, one day when I was still in the midst of my quest for the Mr. Darcy,  my mom said something that was utterly boring and made me want to give up on romance forever: “Your dad may not bring me flowers, but he always makes sure the gas tank in my car is full.  That’s love”  {Insert eye roll here.}
At long last, I met a great guy.  Sure, Mr. DIH wooed me and pursued me.  He sent me flowers, took me to fancy restaurants.  But, to my utter surprise, I realized that I wasn’t the romantic type.  I was shocked.  While I appreciated the flowers (and I still do, honey!) that wasn’t at the heart of what romance was to me.  It was the nights sitting on the couch watching Law & Order.  It was him driving me to work when the roads were icy.  
By the time Mr. DIH proposed to me, I was over the romantic dinners and rose petals.  I wanted to be comfortable and relaxed.  I wanted to wear clothing with elastic and my hair in a ponytail.  My husband jokes that he didn’t want to take me out to dinner to propose because then I’d know that something was up.  So he proposed to me in his living room, after handing me a carbon monoxide detector and fire extinguisher and vowing to always look after and protect me.
It couldn’t have been more perfect.
Oh sure we have our romantic movie type moments, but those aren’t the times that stand out to me at all.  Truth be told, I don’t even remember them.  But I do remember how he spent his lunch hour buying me snacks when I complained that nothing sounded good during my 1st trimester of pregnancy. Or how he surprised me with a cedar chest that he made or stops at the store to pick up my favorite candy and wine.  
I’ve never been the type who needs a formal date night.  It’s too cheesy for me.  I don’t need fancy bouquets of flowers.  I’d rather save up for our new home.  I just want him home at night, to share dinner with him and curl up on the couch together.  I want to go to the grocery store together with our little girl and go for afternoon walks with our baby and annoying dog.  
My ideas of romance?  So different than what I’d thought I’d wanted.  Maybe my mom was right after all.  Who knew?

Can’t we all relate?! So, if you need a dose of real in your day, or a new genuine friend, follow Rach on twitter and read along on her blog.

Linking up with Erica for Yeah Write!