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Today's guest post is from Becky at Family Budgeting. Here is her very simple explanation of what Love Is ...

Love is in the knowing you are whole heartedly cheered for as you set about your life and that if you fall you will be cuddled, kissed better, patched up and sent off with cheers all over again.

We need this sort of love from our parents, our partners and our friends

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Today's Love Is ... post is from Cas who blogs over at Mummy Never Sleeps. (this post made me cry a little, so get your tissues ready)

After growing up reading smutty books and watching hideously bad romance films I was really way too young to be exposing my innocent mind to, I wanted a piece of that love cake, like really wanted some. Longing for someone to want me and need me and maybe all the boring stuff in between.

I spent a LOOOONG time feeling completely unlovable, that I was damaged goods beyond repair and that anyone who may cast a curious glance my way would soon realise I was simply too much hassle. Lonely. Desperate. Hopeless. The usual angsty, woe is me shizz.

However, when love did come storming into my life. It scared the pants off me. What was this I was feeling? Why had I been waiting for it, WILLING it to come for so long? It was frigging terrifying, and new and I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

So extreme was my reaction that I spent my whole pregnancy with my darling son, Bean, and up until he was about 3 months old, single. No don't worry, I'm not looking for pity, I realise I was a total idiot. I knew I was being an idiot at the time and that I was hurting us both, plus almost certainly killing any future we may have had together. My (then) ex missed out on hugely special moments of my pregnancy because I was too scared to see him, for the feelings I knew it would stir inside me. He missed our baby kicking for the first time, he missed all those moments when Bean would get hiccups and my stomach would jolt and shudder unpredictably. He missed my entire labour. But he also missed all the boring bits. And I'm ashamed of that to this day, that my selfish need to run meant he missed those moments.

But I couldn't keep pretending I didn't feel the things I did, it was impossible. Once the three of us were together, none of that mattered anyway. Nothing did. Just us.

Love is, to me, an ever-changing thing. It changes colour and shape and smell and meaning constantly. It can be simply terrifying, it can be completely euphoric, it can be mundane and frustrating. It can keep you grounded and give you a reason to just be and to get out of the warmth of your bed each morning. It can make you soar, make you fight and keep you awake at night.

But ultimately, at the end of the day, love is this:

With Valentines on the horizon, we wanted to share stories from some amazing bloggers about what love really means to them. The first is from Louise Turner who writes at www.allthecampinggear.co.uk, which features tales of their not-so-successful family camping adventures

To give you some context, on 19 February we'll have been together 14 years. I was 19 when we met, he was 27. He's been my husband for nearly nine years and it took me about six of those to accept that he doesn't really do romance. I can count on one hand the number of times he's bought me flowers from a florist (as opposed to from the supermarket, when I might need another hand and maybe a foot to count them), he's never whisked me away for the weekend (although I have done it for him) and he didn't even propose properly - we got engaged during an argument. Best not to ask. But despite this, I know he loves me. I feel it every day. I know it to be true because of the things he does for me. The cooking, the cleaning, the dropping and picking up of children, the support for my new business and the unwavering confidence that I can make it. He even washes my car (and not just because he egged me on to get a black one).

I read somewhere that there are a number of love languages. I express my love physically (not like that, we've been married nearly nine years!) through cuddles and touching, and also through words. He expresses love through his practical support and the occasional lovely comment. So while I yearn for romance and would love to have a story to tell our children about how he got down on one knee and declared his undying love, I know that for us, love is our mutual support for one another and our determination to get through anything together. Love is a home-cooked meal when I'm working late, love is support for me going away for nine days to work, love is knowing our children are safe, loved and looked after while I'm spending all my spare hours making a success of my business. Love is a magazine, a glass of wine and being left alone in the bath for an hour on the rare occasions I feel like a soak.

So while I wouldn't complain at having a bit more romance in my life, I'll settle for the amazing, unwavering support that he gives me every single day. Because daily romance would probably get a bit boring, wouldn't it?  

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