So I don't like valentines day to begin with. I mean, love is great and all that, and who doesn't like a reason to eat a lot.....but in general it simply isnt one of those holidays (like, say, Arbor day) that gets me all hot and bothered. Nate loves me, and he shows me that all year round.....some day where we are supposed to be all especially in love is just weird. If he was a jerk, I might feel differently.
Anyway. Enter preschoolers into my life and my general "meh" ness about Valentines Day is taking a turn for the more aggressive stabby sort of emotion. Its this big stupid deal. And, it could be pretty simple, but I am genetically programmed to make simple things hard. I think that my Mom would have rather eaten glass than give out pre made valentines (WHICH THERE ARE NOTHING WRONG WITH).....but I just can't do it. Genetics are a bitch. So I spent a tortured 30 minutes at Michaels with Jake ("Hi Jake! HIGH FIVE JAKE! HUG, Jake! Jake, stop it. stop it. stop it. STOP IT! Mean face. Throw random heart pinky things in cart. Doilies. Gag). Then, proceed to the actual making of the Valentines, and the super special Valentines day BAG for the super special Valentines day PARTY at preschool (x2). And then my dumb self asks the teachers if they need anything for the party (a nicety to which they are supposed to reply "oh no sweetie, you have your hands full!") yet instead both sets of teachers request contributions. And again, because of genetics, they have to be handmade.
I will say, this year was better than last year. If anyone remembers last years debacle (the day that Nate was out of town and Jules decided to paint her room, quilt, and furniture brown, turning me into a naked just out of the shower screaming banshee)..........it really could only go up from there.
I put Jake to bed each night and we did the valentine thing in three stages. The upside to all of this forced tortuous creativity is that my kids pretty much don't remember what TV is, and I actually have spent several relatively enjoyable glittered evenings with them post Jake's bedtime. One night for the bags . One night for the valentines. One night for the stupid candy that none of the other parents even want being attached to the valentines. So. Yay. Do I sound excited yet?
Don't even get me started on the FUN of preschool mandated birthday parties. Next post. My Italian is already too fired up just writing about this adventure to start on that one.
PS, this is a video because it was supposed to be a photo and I am iPhone stupid.
