Once upon a time, I wore suits, drank martinis in trendy bars, and knew what day it was. I participated in crazy shenanigans like reading news articles in one sitting, and finishing cups of coffee without losing the mug or having to reheat it. I left early for the office, leaving plenty of spare time to grab a latte and drop my precious puppy off at doggie daycare. Doggie daycare. You want to give me a solemn, “Bless your heart”, don’t you?
Legend has it that I was up to speed on current events, washed my hair regularly, and watched television shows as they were actually airing.
Also, there was no Pinterest. GASP.
I’m 80 percent sure that it’s February. My interests include Amazon Prime, dry shampoo, and foods my children might eat. The dog is trained to push his dish around the kitchen when I forget to feed him. I just found a coffee mug on one of the plastic shelves in the garage. Down time comes in two-to-five minute intervals, which means that I’ve read the first three sentences of 28 percent of the articles in my news app.
You know what else I can do in two minutes? Plan an entire dinner that I’ll never cook and save 400 pictures of Joanna Gaines inspired living rooms, that’s what. Because PINTEREST exists now.
Mama loves Pinterest. Where else would I find endless pictures of food photographed in the mysterious vortex where crockpot dishes look appetizing? Pinterest reigns with a mighty fist over my entire Target-loving, messy-bun-wearing, babysitter-dreaming kingdom. Pinterest makes us better one glue stick and can of creamed soup at a time.
But occasionally, Pinterest inhales too much spray adhesive and needs to sit down and be quiet. I vote we get her an Uber prior to Valentine’s Day.
Cool Moms Make Craptastic Valentines!
I’ve been a room mom for 4,587 years. (That’s four in dad years.) Thanks to my complete inability to stop taking on more than I can handle, I’m able to deliver this much needed news to my people: Your kids don’t care about Pinterest worthy Valentine boxes and handouts.
I watch it play out every year. There are the giant boxes with battery operated fireworks held by a DJ spinning Taylor Swift records. There are slightly more modest attempts at greatness that shimmer and glow, thanks to a painstaking application of super fine iridescent glitter at 2:37 a.m. the night before.
The kids do not care about these magnificent creations. They care about cupcakes.
My favorite boxes are made by moms who clearly had high hopes of making that Pinterest idea come to fruition . . . prior to forgetting it was February. Usually adorned in Christmas decorations with the obvious Santa heads/mistletoe cut off, these boxes are unique and fun. You can always spot the single Valentine item mom was able to purchase before her youngest got pink eye last Thursday. Luckily, she had remembered to toss a large glittered heart into her cart while grabbing $5 burlap banners from the $1 bins at Target. That heart totally covered the reindeer on the Valentine box, so she’s still winning.
The Struggle Is Real
I’ve been stressing myself over this stuff for years now. Contrary to popular belief, it’s never been about showing off or one-upping another mother. I try to recreate those Pinterest ideas because I love my boys more than life itself, and seeing their faces light up is worth every single hot glue burn. Also, I don’t have girls, and this is my only sanctioned day to use glitter. Either way, I like it when things are awesome.
The bottom line is that I’ve watched the parties play out year after year, and your kiddos have a blast, whether they pass out gift bags with handwritten glittered names (points finger at self) or the premade box kind. My son has never looked at a Valentine in dismay. He happily sticks a third Dum-Dum in his mouth and tears open the next one. The kids couldn’t care less how deep into the Pinterest well you dove in pursuit of Valentine greatness. They care about 30 minutes without school work, snacks with icing and/or sprinkles, and the ability to talk without getting their folder signed. That’s the sweet spot, friends.
Embrace Your Crazy . . . or Stage an Intervention
If making over-the-top Valentines brings you all the joy, DO IT! However, if it’s 2:37 a.m. and you’re weeping into a glitter covered sweatshirt sleeve about where you went wrong in life, put Pinterest down and back away slowly. Queen P needs to be fired, and you need to pour a glass of wine and relax with your neighborhood Facebook page. At this late hour, you’ve certainly missed several heated posts about wayward teens with horrible parents and two pictures of the car that’s always speeding in the school zone. THIS is the important stuff. Priorities, people.