Rebel

Last night, all over this great continent, some people were primping and priming themeselves and their wardrobes in preparation for today's celebration of love. Others were scrambling to order flowers online or find a card at the second-last minute. But everyone I know was cursing their children's classmates for their hard-to-spell names and their sheer numbers, and wrestling with printers or glue or tape or stickers, and wondering just how upset a class of three-, four-, five-, six-, or seven-year-olds would be if they didn't get a Valentine's card from every single other classmate.

Well, I'll tell you this afternoon, becuase my two went in with nary a card to their names. (That means nothing.)

Last week, as I think I mentioned, I was delighted to find some cute pre-made Valentine's cards in the local store. I got a pack of superhero ones for Dash, princess ones for Mabel. They, in turn, were also delighted, and sat down forthwith to write in the "To" and "From" names and seal them with a sticker. That was all they had to do. Crafts are for the birds, I thought. This is perfect.

They both got about halfway through their class lists. "That's great," I announced. We'll do a few more each day and by next Thursday they'll all be ready."
"Not so fast," said Fate to me.

The next day, Dash's teacher sent home a note saying that everyone should bring in 24 blank envelopes and a packet of candy hearts on Thursday. The blank envelopes confused me for a while - should there be anything inside them? How would the cards get to the right people if their names weren't on the outsides? Also, our cards didn't come with envelopes. Also also, I try to minimize the candy, especially the no-redeeming-features sugar-and-Red-40 type candy. If everyone brings in a pack, there's going to be a lot of candy in the classroom. (They plan to use them for math before eating them. So that makes it fine, right?)

A short consultation with Facebook enlighted me about the envelopes: what she meant was that the Valentines should have a sender's name but no recipient's name, for ease of distribution. Which makes it only almost, but not absolutely entirely, pointless. But Dash had done half the names already. Should he finish up the rest or not?

The decision was made by Dash deciding not to do any more, and not to bring any in. Mabel also fell off the wagon and gave up on her cards, so this morning I said:

"Right, are either of you bringing in Valentines today?"
"No," they chorused cheerfully.
"Okay then."

I did not say "Well, how will you feel if you're the only child who doesn't give cards in your class?" For one thing, the four-year-olds won't notice. For another, the six-year-olds probably won't either. And for the most part, I don't like being held hostage by Hallmark, the craft industry, the school, and some imaginary set of judgemental parents for yet another thing to think I should nag my children about if I want to be a good mother.

My children did not bring in any cards today. I'm fine with that. (But if I meet you I'll probably apologise profusely, just to be on the safe side.)