The box of 32 Power Ranger Valentines was just $4 at my local drugstore when I saw them crowding the shelves alongside Christmas leftovers almost a month ago.
My son was with me as we were there to mail some of his thank you cards from the holidays. I asked him if he liked them, he said yes, and they were snapped up in a second.
The reason why Valentine’s Day at school is special and meaningful to me is because my son wants to do it. I could give it a miss, to be honest, but he wants it to be something from him to his friends. He wants to sit at his desk for 45 minutes, an hour, 90 minutes, whatever it takes to perfectly copy the names of every single one of those tiny cards to his friends.
He doesn’t care if there are trinkets attached. He doesn’t care if the card doubles as a craft. He doesn’t care that I spent three seconds deciding at the drugstore if it was worth buying the cards instead of spending an entire weekend searching for Pinterest perfect Valentine’s Card printables.
He doesn’t care. I’m sure some moms do, though. Like in that scene from Her where Amy is designing a video game where the goal is to be the best mom. You do this by getting your kid to school first and by parading freshly made cupcakes past other parents to collect all the “mom points.” Because parenting is a competition?
If you’ve got the time, and you’ve got the skill, and you’ve got the desire to go full blown Pinterest on every holiday — and the make believe ones too — more power to you.
But you don’t need to, you know.
That’s not what this is about. It’s not your race to run, it’s not about you, it’s about the kids.
My son is just as proud about these terribly perforated Power Ranger cards as he would be over any thing…because he wrote his friends’ names down, not because I spent hours searching for heart shaped balloons to tie to cards.
That’s it. Stop making things so complicated, people.
Image via DadCAMP