Tomorrow is the Valentine's Day party for Spencer's preschool. Which means I spent most of the begging, bribing, and threatening Spencer to write his name on the Valentines we're sending with him. (His teachers specifically asked that the children write their names, and Spencer, a lefty, needs all the practice he can get!) ((Yes, even at five years old!))
Our Valentines are not nearly as cute or creative as Christy's or Design Moms. Oh, I had aspirations and ideas. Just not the energy or the drive. (Or, more importantly, a child who cared.) Maybe next year, when I'm not pestered by completely unecessary Braxton Hicks contractions or sciatica. Hey, these are totally acceptable excuses in my book.
(Very random side note: I know, what's up with the stupid Braxton Hicks contractions? I keep telling my body, "Body, I do not need these. I am having a c-section. So let's just stop wasting our time and energy. And. It. Hurts." My body then follows the example of my children when I say things they don't want to hear and ignores me. My body also ignores such comments as, "Lose some weight!", "Have more energy!", "Don't be sick!", and "You do not have to pee again!"
Traiterous body.)
So I let Spencer pick out his Valentines from the store. Not surprisingly, he went for the reticulated Spiderman cards. (You know - the ones you move back and forth and the picture changes.) Fancy. Cool. Manly.
Now I'm not a mom who thinks my kids need more candy. Much to their chagrin (and probably why they ignore me unless candy is mentioned), I am the opposite. I didn't send candy last year. And I was one of those moms at Halloween and sent him to school with cool Chinese Yo-yos instead of more processed sugar. (I know, the horror!) But I was thoroughly chastised by Spencer last week in the Valentine's aisle. True conversation:
Spencer: Mommy, we need Valentine candy for school.
Me: No we don't.
Spencer: Yes. We need candy. Because that's what you give at Valentine's Day.
Me: You don't have to. Last year we didn't.
Spencer (at this point rolling his eyes and sounding very much like 15 instead of 5): I know.
Ouch.
So I caved. Besides, this meant I could gussy up the Valentines a little. Here's what I came up with:
I know, not that fancy. But they're still cute and manly. I know, they have bows. But in my book, anything with Spiderman = manly.
Spencer, being the cutie-pie that he is, wanted to buy huge stuffed teddy bears for each of his teachers. We compromised on some boxes of conversation hearts instead. (Sorry in advance, teachers!) I had him write his name on each of the boxes, but this was extra hard because: 1) He was seriously sick of writing his name on things, 2) They were little boxes, and 3) He just didn't really care what it looked like. So I decided to put his name underneath, just to make sure they knew who it was from.
Yikes. I know, it's totally ironic that my handwriting is only slightly more legible than his.
So... did you have manly Valentines this year?
Our Valentines are not nearly as cute or creative as Christy's or Design Moms. Oh, I had aspirations and ideas. Just not the energy or the drive. (Or, more importantly, a child who cared.) Maybe next year, when I'm not pestered by completely unecessary Braxton Hicks contractions or sciatica. Hey, these are totally acceptable excuses in my book.
(Very random side note: I know, what's up with the stupid Braxton Hicks contractions? I keep telling my body, "Body, I do not need these. I am having a c-section. So let's just stop wasting our time and energy. And. It. Hurts." My body then follows the example of my children when I say things they don't want to hear and ignores me. My body also ignores such comments as, "Lose some weight!", "Have more energy!", "Don't be sick!", and "You do not have to pee again!"
Traiterous body.)
So I let Spencer pick out his Valentines from the store. Not surprisingly, he went for the reticulated Spiderman cards. (You know - the ones you move back and forth and the picture changes.) Fancy. Cool. Manly.
Now I'm not a mom who thinks my kids need more candy. Much to their chagrin (and probably why they ignore me unless candy is mentioned), I am the opposite. I didn't send candy last year. And I was one of those moms at Halloween and sent him to school with cool Chinese Yo-yos instead of more processed sugar. (I know, the horror!) But I was thoroughly chastised by Spencer last week in the Valentine's aisle. True conversation:
Spencer: Mommy, we need Valentine candy for school.
Me: No we don't.
Spencer: Yes. We need candy. Because that's what you give at Valentine's Day.
Me: You don't have to. Last year we didn't.
Spencer (at this point rolling his eyes and sounding very much like 15 instead of 5): I know.
Ouch.
So I caved. Besides, this meant I could gussy up the Valentines a little. Here's what I came up with:
I know, not that fancy. But they're still cute and manly. I know, they have bows. But in my book, anything with Spiderman = manly.
Spencer, being the cutie-pie that he is, wanted to buy huge stuffed teddy bears for each of his teachers. We compromised on some boxes of conversation hearts instead. (Sorry in advance, teachers!) I had him write his name on each of the boxes, but this was extra hard because: 1) He was seriously sick of writing his name on things, 2) They were little boxes, and 3) He just didn't really care what it looked like. So I decided to put his name underneath, just to make sure they knew who it was from.
Yikes. I know, it's totally ironic that my handwriting is only slightly more legible than his.
So... did you have manly Valentines this year?
2 comments:
Yours are great! I loved Design Mom's too and I'll have to head over to Christy's. I was planning too far in advance to copy any of these ideas, so I just bought Lego valentines cards. That's it. Nothing else. (Although, the actual cards are cool because they are made of scrambled stickers that you pull apart and put back together like a jigsaw puzzle.) Next year, we're totally doing Mad Libs.
We did teenage mutant ninja turtles and the daycare specifically asked for no candy or treats - yeah!
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