Isabella to me: I lost a tooth and I have exactly four boyfriends. Valentine’s Day is my favorite.
Kids, man. They really just enjoy the little things in life, eh? She just saw yesterday as a fun day to eat chocolate and exchange gifts, cards, candies, and have her very first dance at school and go to bed with visions of a little white fairy named LouLou dancing in her head.
Yesterday my social media feeds were full of a mixed bag of heart-shaped emotion.
Photos of cards, and flowers, and delicious-looking baked goods smothered in pink and red heart-shaped sprinkles. Enviable homemade valentines for their children’s classmates—oh Pinterest and instagram, you are really great at making me realize how much I fail as a creative mama. Date plans. Red dresses and shoes.
It’s okay to love Valentine’s Day.
“Valentine’s Day is just…Thursday.” Reminders about how unimportant Valentine’s Day is, how people don’t need a special day to prove love. How they aren’t buying into the Hallmark-ness of the holiday. No edibles, no flowers, cards, no dates.
It’s also okay to not love Valentine’s Day.
And it’s also okay to fall someone in the middle on the Valentine’s Day love train. (As my friend Sandy says, she draws the line at V-Day-themed dish towels.)
I sure don’t need a day decided on by Hallmark.
But what’s wrong with having one? What’s wrong with having an excuse to be nice to people you love? What’s wrong with having an excuse to go to the mall at lunchtime to buy myself some new undergarments and to eat baked goods instead of breakfast and to allow the lovely man in my life to take me to see back-to-back movies and to dinner. A Silver Linings Playlist and Django Unchained double header? Don’t mind if I do!
Nothing is wrong with it, I say.
Unless you are a mom in a lingerie store with your young teenaged daughter, buying her some sexy lingerie for her night with Jason.
Because, man, you’ve really got to draw the V-Day line somewhere.
Also, we have a venue.