Where did the romance of Valentine's Day go?

By Maria Bailey

There are certain holidays a mother always attaches to the word "work." Halloween and Christmas top my list for sure. I begin preparing for Halloween in August. I've found that if I ask my children once a week for six weeks, what their intended costume will be, I will get six different answers. If the same answer comes up twice, it's usually safe for me to begin making the costume. But it's more than just choosing costumes. It's getting up two hours earlier on Halloween morning just to get the appropriate parts attached to costumes and apply make up before school and then leaving work early so your tribe can be on the street by dusk.

I have to say, it's one of the longest days of my year and I haven't even touched on the whole sugar-overload issue that comes along with children eating candy from dawn to dusk. Now, as I sit here the morning after Valentine's Day, I'm wondering when Valentine's Day became so much work too? Isn't it a day meant to honor the ones you love? A grown-up holiday filled with roses, romance and your own box of Whitman's chocolates? Somewhere someone must have changed the rules and forgot to send me an e-mail. My Valentine's Day began a week ago with an outing to Target to select the perfect box of classroom valentine cards.

I remember picking out my box of cards with my mother each year. They were flat perforated cards that if not torn correctly would rip. Although my mother would repeatedly ask to help me do the tearing, I would refuse. In the end, half my cards would have an extra tear in them but they were the ones that went to the boys anyways, so who cared. Is there anyone who actually got a husband by giving them a paper Cinderella card that read something corny like "Be my Prince Charming?"

Today, the store shelves are stocked full of multi-dimensional, assembly required cards. Everything from foiled Britney Spears to NBA Basketball tattoos. I don't know that my wedding invitations had as many moving parts as some of these cards. There are so many decisions for my two first graders to make--candy or no candy? Pink or white envelops? Stickers or no stickers? I finally have to intercede and do the same suggested selling I learned while working for McDonalds as a teenager.

Finally the cards are bought and now the hard part begins, getting them signed. The task of three children signing 25 cards and attaching lollipops to each takes the entire weekend. Once that's done, it's time to start planning for the class parties. In a moment of weakness, I agreed to supervise the arts and craft project for my kindergartener's class. We decide to make roses and violets using red lollipops as the stem and flower's face. The project would require me to cut out 350 red and blue construction paper hearts to be glued on as petals. A simple task until I discovered the night before Valentine's Day that it really takes three hours to cut, sort and organize the project. My forgotten mantra comes to mind about midnight, "Just say No." Why is it that I don't remember that one?

Valentine's Day officially arrives as I drift off to sleep. The next morning class cards are packed in each child's backpack along with the appropriate candy filled hearts for each teacher. Ironically, the unmailed cards I bought for my mother and sister still sit on the kitchen counter. Oh well, next year, I think as I stick them in our stationary drawer.

My schedule for the day looks like a war zone. Back to back conference calls, meetings and deadlines and right in the middle of the day: Kindergarten Valentine Party. That's right, I have to run to my children's school, conduct an arts and craft project with 25 five year olds and be back in the office in time for a conference call with a Fortune 500 company. As a working mother, you do what you have to do. It's just the way it is. I strategically plan my clothing so that I can take off my business jacket in an attempt to look like the other moms who obviously aren't dressed like they just left their office. The feelings you experience when you are around all the stay-at-home moms while volunteering at school in your business suit is an entire diary entry in itself.

The day goes smoothly and I'm able to be at the school on time. I take my place among the children and begin our project. I have to admit that it's fun. Seeing how proud my son is that his mom is leading the art project warms my heart beyond description. Soon it's back to reality as I race to the office for my call all the while trying to figure out when I'm going to find time to get my husband a small gift and card before dinner.

The afternoon is brightened by the deliver of a dozen long stem roses from my husband. There it is, the Valentine's Day I remember. Now, I definitely have to find time to buy him a gift, the roses have solidified that issue for me. I manage to sneak out of the office early enough to run to the mall, pick up a gift, stop at the grocery store so I can prepare that romantic dinner I used to cook and get home by 7 p.m. The house is filled with remnants of classroom parties. There are bags and bags of cards and candy. Each child has his or her pile scattered in different areas of the house. I convince myself that I'm not going to worry about it until after they go to bed. It's one of the things I've learned to do as a working mother, ignore the mess until later. But let me warn you, when the house is finally quiet and I get started on my purging binge, the amount of candy and cards will dramatically be reduced! Tomorrow, I'll be saying, "I just don't know where it is" a lot. Memories of paper cards will fade and uneaten candy will be forgotten in a few days. They always are.

Once the kids are tucked in, it's time to regain the Valentine's Day of yesteryear. I cook my husband's favorite dinner, give him the gift I haven't had time to wrap and hope that he doesn't expect anything that will take any more of my energy that doesn't exist. That's right, no expectations for romance on my part. I've given all I can by 9 p.m. when the last dinner dish is washed and put away. They'll be no red lingerie (spelling? My mind is clogged), candlelight or passionate kisses from this tired soul. I'm sure those days will return one day, but if Valentine's Day is for honoring the ones you love, I celebrated it fivefold today. I don't even have the energy to puncture my Whitman's sampler candies to look for the caramel pieces. It will have to wait for tomorrow. Instead, I'll fall asleep with the words of that most famous romantic couple Rhett and Scarlett ringing in my ears..."Tomorrow is another day."

Have a great week and take a moment to enjoy just being a mom!

Share your thoughts on our message board or email Maria.

Also see:
• Week Twenty-Three -- The call I've been waiting for
• Week Twenty-Two -- Where did the weekend go?
• Week Twenty-One -- Business trip challenges
• Week Twenty -- Girl Scout cookie time
• Week Nineteen -- Thoughts on Motherhood
• Week Eighteen -- No more Resolutions
• Week Seventeen -- Holiday Letter
• Week Sixteen -- Holiday Traditions
• Week Fifteen -- Who's bed is it anyway?
• Week Fourteen -- Holding a child's hand
• Week Thirteen -- Attending a bris
• Week Twelve -- A lesson from TV
• Week Eleven -- I did it!
More diary entries

Maria Bailey is the CEO and founder of BlueSuitMom.com and a mother of four children under the age of seven.