My Valentine Babies

Happy Valentine's Day!

My little Valentines had a party two days ago. For the first time in five years, I did not obsess over worry stress out spend any time creating an amazing valentine box for anyone.

I think it may have been a major break through.

I was headed into a craft store to pick up a few pink and red supplies when I saw a display of "memory boxes" on clearance.  Shoe-box size. Colorful. Pretty. Varied designs. Cheap.  It was an easy decision.

Ruffer Valentine Boxes, 2013 Version

I still feel a little guilty about these boxes.  It felt like a selfish choice. Easy decisions often feel selfish, don't they?  I think a big part of me missed taking an old shoe box and crafting a Valentine monster. But another, equally big, part of me didn't mind having a little extra time in my day.  (Honour Math: 1 big part + 1 big parts + various little parts + chocolate = 1 guilt-wracked mother.)  Plus, they are cute boxes.  

One of my boys felt like his wasn't personal enough.

He printed off pictures of Angry Birds and glued them to his box. Perhaps his feelings about Valentine's Day are more fully expressed now?

 Ginger had a relapse of an illness we've been sharing around here, so her older brothers and sisters helped me throw glitter and glue candy down to the pictures she didn't color.

When she was feeling better, and fortified by a heart-shaped sucker she ripped off of someone's valentine, she inspected their handiwork and declared it acceptable.  At least, I think that's what she was declaring.  She's always declaring something, but usually her pronunciation is difficult to interpret.

These were my favorite of our home-made valentines. I love variety of colors and the preschooler signature. When Willa was lagging behind in production, her older sister very kindly helped her finish and the owls became more uniform in their appearance.  The crazy-quilt application holds a certain charm for me.

 Of course, their creator holds a certain charm for me too.

 Norah's Valentine's were "store bought" but she very carefully wrote names and attached lollipops.  I think tiny cards are precious.  In fact, if I ever start sending mail on a regular basis, I might exclusively use tiny envelopes. I wonder if the USPS will mind?

Isn't she dear?  She tries to be so grown up, and with two little sisters hanging around, I sometimes think she is.  But then I see a picture of her, or listen to a voice mail message she's left me and I remember that she is still a very, very little girl. That's good, because I'm keeping her home with me forever. I hope we stop arguing about her hair soon.

 These are Sammy's messages of affection.  The girls got pencils, the boys got football cards.
 

And Sam, apparently, got a touch of memory loss.  Why are we giving valentines away?

Weston's cards pretty much were the same as Sammy's.  There's only so much you can do with a girly-holiday like Valentine's Day that doesn't seem, well, girly.

Weston is a little tired of pictures.
And maybe you are too.
So you'll be happy that I don't have a picture of my true Valentine and the card he gave to me.
I will also spare you a picture of our muddy yard.  All our snow has melted (so there, Boston) and we now can see all the random bits of garbage that Dolly the Wonder Dog has pilfered from the trash and left half-chewed across our winter grass.
February without snow is not my favorite.
Thank goodness for {cute} boxes with chocolate to cheer us up.