Poor men are the real victims of mom brain.

You'd think it would be us, but that's a BIG FAT NOPE.

Here's an example:

Valentine's Day was a week ago and my husband's v-day card, well, it's still sitting -- blank -- on our shelf by the front door.

And the crappiest wife for the first two months of the new year goes to...drumroll, please...

ME.

I stink.

Not at everything, of course.

I'm a pretty good mom, daughter, and sister.

I'm a decent homeroom mom and classroom volunteer.

I'm an okay pet owner.

I'd say I'm an above average friend if you and I have bonded enough over our packed schedules and cray-cray kids.

And I can write well.

So, there's that.

But, as a wife, I'm the poop emoji.

Not every day.

And, surely not on date night when I come out of my motherhood induced, anxiety-coated, often witchy shell.

But, more often than not, my poor selfless (except when he takes 40 minutes in the bathroom hiding from the kids and I because that's just selfish) husband gets the crappy me.

The me that is unsure if I am getting anything (at all) right.

The me that feels unpretty.

The me that feels overtasked and underappreciated.

The me that is continuously exasperated and frustrated.

The me that feels I'm not contributing enough.

The me that feels like if I have to do another load of laundry, I just might lose my everloving shiitake.

The me that can't help but blame myself for my children's expected and age-appropriate missteps.

The me that complains I have no friends yet makes no time for any.

Basically, my husband gets the me that's not me; at least not who I want myself to be.

Still, he does get the me thats in metamorphasis, and when you think about it, that's kind of cool too.

The old me -- which is the young carefree me -- would have never let a Valentine's Day go by without that man receiving his card.

The old me would have woken him up with a delicious homecooked breakfast, gifts and of course, affection -- enough to keep him longing for more throughout his workday -- and then some more overly-friendly attention later that evening.

But, not this year, and not for the past seven years.

Here's the thing tho --

Though that seemingly unlucky man never received his Hallmark card, he did receive a few gifts from me including a watch that didn't fit, two new coffee mugs and some comfy house clothes cause I know he hates shopping.

I went practical, people and apparently what wasn't practical for me last Thursday (and I'm just guessing here because of course, I can't remember back that far) was finding the time to fill out a card.

With three children, a work-from-home job, an hour at the gym, home tasks and plenty of afternoon activities, filling out that darn ridiculously priced $5 piece of cardstock was just not high on my priority list.

Nor, has it made it's way to the top of the list since.

After 10+ years married and 12+ years of being together, my husband and I know that there is no gift we can or will ever give one another that will ever hold a candle to the three gifts I delivered to the both of us back in June of 2011, December of 2013 and February of 2019.

And, my husband doesn't need a card on a random day deemed "love day" every year to remind him of that.

Do I stink as a wife because most days I lack the energy to put thoughtful energy into our marriage? I do.

Do I stink as a wife because I have still yet to fill out and give him his v-day card? Nope.

Marriage = hard.

Parenting = hard.

Not allowing stupid negligences, like a missed valentine's day card, to hinder your relationship = priceless.

I do think I will have time to fill it out before v-day 2020 though, and then I won't have to spend another $5 of our hard-earned-by him money and if that doesn't say 'I love you,' then I don't know what does.