Valentine's day is filled with chocolates and roses and lots of those horrid balloons and white stuffed bears that only come out in February. We do none of these things. My daughter saw a balloon with a cat on it recently and said, "Let me guess Mom, you double-hate that one."
Descartes brought home some yummy stinky cheese and delicious bread. I usually
make him a heart-shaped meatloaf (since I think he fell in love with my
meatloaf before he fell in love with me), but this year I opted for Banh Mi one of my new favorite foods because what's not to love about these flavor-filled, flexible sandwiches? A new tradition is born.
We finished Lucy's valentine's cards just before bed last night...I felt guilty that I did not make cake pops, stick lollies to hand-made cards or shape hearts from doilies. She had no sense of this, being perfectly satisfied to give Phineas and Ferb, and Disney Princess cards to her kindergarten friends. Her teacher gave her a Disney princess card, as did half the class. Phew. And she didn't mind that her extra-special card to once certain boy in her class did not get her an extra-special card in return.
I went to Jake's Valentine's day party at Wunderskool. I had great intentions to make a special blah blah blah for each of the children in his class, and something even lovelier for each of the professionals who guarantee my child's health, happiness and safety while encouraging him to learn every day. I decided to show up instead. He saw me as I was walking in the parking lot and headed for the gate to greet me.
I love the look my kids get when they see me across the room, slightly unsure of how long I've been standing there. They grow so fast these days it can take me awhile to find them in their circles of friends and teachers, and they both have darker hair than I imagine they have when they are apart from me. When they see me, there is a smile that spreads across their face, and it fills me up, makes me whole again. Lucy generally calls my name as if she has just greeted a dear friend from college she hasn't seen in years, and Jake will touch my arm with one finger, tracing the space between the radius and ulna.
Jake took my hand and held it later in class while we were waiting for some treats. He took my hand and lifted it to his mouth and kept it there against his lips. Of course I was chatting away with the aides in the class, teasing Jake and his friends, so it took me a moment to register that he was kissing me, kissing my hand. I thanked him for the very nice kiss and he put his arm around me and pulled me in laughing. It's nice to have those moments with him, especially because he is eleven, and there aren't that many more years when he is going to want to hold his mom's hand at all.