Valentine's Day

I know. Every photo from Charlotte's school parties involves a profile shot of her eating.

I'm not a huge fan of Valentine's Day, but I'm not one of those people who detest it. It's just sort of one of those days that has a whiff of something a little special about it--like St. Patrick's Day.

This year, as we have been SO BUSY lately, Chris and I decided to not "test" our mutual love with cards or flowers or chocolates or--gasp--a DATE. Nope, our focus was on merely survivng the week. We agreed that neither of us would make any effort, nor expect any effort made for us. See, this is how we express our love--by making things as easy on the other person as possible. It was perfect.

Of course, as I'm learning, having a child means you still have to do SOMETHING. When I was a wee lass, my mum would put together fun Valentine's Day baskets for my brother and me. Lots of sugar was involved, along with--always--a toothbrush. Although I have yet to be a Good Mom and mark February 14th in a similar way for Charlotte, I did make 13 valentines for her classmates (12 kids in the class max, but there are a couple part-timers).

And I attended her Valentine's Day party.

As I mentioned in my previous post, this was NOT something I had time to do, but I can't stand the thought of my girl looking around the classroom full of parents and with a trembling bottom lip, wondering where her mommy is. And Chris was triple-booked at work with meetings. And there was that whole rock-paper-scissors business.

So, I went. As I walked through the door, I told myslef it was TOTALLY worth it. That the mountain of work I was neglecting could wait. The room was beautifully set up with lots of pink and red, and festive V-day placemats and plates full of cupcakes and cookies were placed at each spot at the kids' tables. Jolly music was blasting, and I spied my little girl dancing her heart out. Gleefully.

Then a little boy shouted, "Charlotte, your mommy is here!"

Charlotte stopped dancing, looked up, and her face contorted into sheer anger. She plopped onto the ground and burst into tears, yelling, "NO! NO! NO!"

Just the reaction I was looking forward to when I walked in.

"Charlotte girl, what's going on?" I said.

She continued to scream and cry, her face as red as the as the festive frosting on the cupcakes. This kid was peeved.

"I think she thinks you're here to pick her up," her teacher said.

Well, of course! I finally understood. She was all excited for her party and she thought Mommy was here to take her home. She thought she was about to MISS the party, and she had been so pumped up for it.

"Charlotte, we're staying!" I said. "Mommy came early so she could go to your party too!"

Charlotte didn't hear me. She was screaming too loudly.

Finally, I pulled out a chair and hoisted my girl into it, so she faced a mountain of treats.

The screaming immediately ebbed. I took that opportunity to sit down next to her. Again, I told her I was there for her party. We were staying. I don't know if she thought, "Boy, that tantrum really worked--I got to stay!" or if she realized she had, um, misunderstood the situation. But the rest of the party was perfectly delightful.

So that was our Valentine's Day. Not terribly romantic and pretty much all about Charlotte, but most things these day are indeed all about Charlotte. And hey, that's mommyhood. That's just fine.