Pin It (Post Disclaimer: I've been in a funky mood for the last couple of weeks, a mood caused by news that's completely thrown me. Like picked-me-up-and-slammed-me-against-the-far-wall kind of thrown me. I'm not ready to talk about it, but just know that I'm a little off. A little discombobulated. A little brittle. But I should be back to my regular self any day now. Probably.)
I hate Valentines Day. (CHEERFUL!)
Not because the romance is gone, but because it's this one day where it feels like you have to "PROVE IT! PROVE IT NOW! MEASURE YOUR LOVE! IN CHOCOLATE!" And then after Valentines Day, everyone posts about the darling things they did for their kids, or the darling table they set, or the darling gift their significant other got them, and then I end up chasing my eyeballs around the kitchen floor after I roll them so hard they freaking spin right out of their sockets.
Today we performed our annual St. Valentines Day Why-Don't-We-Just-Go-Ahead-And-Set-the-Money-On-Fire-a-thon, buying Valentines for all three children to give to their classmates, along with candy and Valentine plates and cups and drinks and napkins for the class parties. Of course, attempting to find anything red or pink ("Dear Sarah's Mom: The plates and cups must be red. Or pink. Sincerely: Sarah's Sadistic Teacher") at this late date was an exercise in complete futility which required visiting three separate stores, and after all of that I STILL forgot the parmesan cheese.
(For dinner, not for the class party.)
(Tell me about how fun class Valentines Day parties are and I will come over there and rip out your gizzard.)
Class party fury aside, I do try to make Valentines Day fun for the kids. Last year, in a fit of guilt over our impending move, I did all kinds of Type A Valentines Day Motherish things - even attempting pink heart-shaped pancakes (FAIL). This year I will probably... I don't know.... Do... something. (That is my big plan as of 11:00 tonight.)
My husband and I usually go to dinner, and that's what we're doing again this year, but on Friday instead of Saturday because 1) who cares? (romantic) and 2) finding a babysitter in our neighborhood on Valentines Day is impossible.
There are at least fifty-seven families with young children within a three block radius of our house. Babysitters are booked up for seven months in advance and when you do manage to win the babysitting lottery and secure one you have to pay them in Cool Ranch Doritos and freaking GOLD. Bidding wars break out for the good ones until only the babysitting dregs are left and you end up making incredibly desperate choices. "Well yes, I know Margene almost electrocuted Carter last time, but really, what are the odds it would happen twice? Pretty small, right?"
Here's the thing that annoys me about babysitters. My kids are good kids. I'm not just saying that. We won the good kid lottery. They're easy, they get along, they play well together, they do what they're told - and they're even easier with babysitters than with their mom. We usually have them in bed by 7:00, and the sitter typically comes at 7:30. So basically we pay some teenager $7 an hour to sit on our couch and watch TV and eat our food and make sure the house doesn't burn down. It really chaps my hide. A LOT. MAN. SEVEN BUCKS.
When I was a babysitter I did the dishes and cleaned the counters and mopped the floor and organized their 8-track collection, all for $1 an hour. BUT THESE KIDS TODAY. THESE LAZY KIDS TODAY.
(Actually, I'm not sure if I'm legitimately upset by this or if this is just a continuation of my MYSTERIOUS ITEM induced bad mood. Maybe I'm doomed to be irrationally irritated for a little while.)
(I apologize in advance if I end up posting tomorrow about how it really ticks me off when the sun is out, and also it ticks me off when the sun is behind the clouds, and also how inconvenient is it that it gets so freaking DARK at night?!)
(Any of these things might set me off. AT ANY MOMENT.)
Happy freaking Valentines Day.