Last week I found myself making Valentines for my son’s preschool class at 9:30 pm while watching Loudermilk on Netflix (I am not sure yet if I recommend this show, just setting the scene here). Jonny and I had discussed Valentine’s Day, our preschool said that cards were optional, but I couldn’t get the image of Ari not having any cards to pass out out of my head. I purchased brown cardstock and heart stickers from Craft Warehouse, and simply cut the cardstock into business card-size pieces and stuck a few hearts in the corners. As I was doing this, my husband sat behind me on the couch and commented, “This is the most mom thing I’ve ever seen you do. I love it.”
People in my real life know that my husband is a very capable father. Our household and parenting duties are split nearly 50/50, if anything he ends up picking up more slack because his work hours are more flexible than mine. However, we still split some responsibilities in very stereotypically gendered ways. Making holiday + birthday magic is one of them. Valentine’s Day is one of the few holidays I actually *do* enjoy celebrating precisely because it is low-stakes, and I have no memories of my (divorced) parents fighting or lamenting over it.
Up until now, I felt like I could opt-out and opt-in to whatever part of modern day parenting culture I wanted, but as Ari gets older, I see that what we choose to participate in as a family will have ramifications because he will notice. I wield the magic.
For now, I think the mom-made brown cardstock Valentines are fine.
PS. For further holiday magic rumination, I recommend reading Youngna Park’s reflection from last week. “The murky dance between consumption and tradition,” indeed.