So today is apparently a holiday, of sorts—or so I’ve been told.
You may or may not know that I personally do not celebrate Valentine’s Day.
*GASP!*
I know, right?
I’ve been a proud anti-Valentine’s Day girl since 2001. In college, my friend and I tried to get ‘Half February Day’ as the official replacement, but there’s a lot of hoops to jump through to make that happen worldwide, so we gave up.
I’m not here to explain why it’s a silly holiday or convince you to come over to ‘my side’. And just because I choose not to acknowledge it as a holiday, doesn’t mean I want you to do the same.
Now, all that being said…..my mom has always continued to send me Valentine’s Day gifts every year, which I greatly appreciate. I just never send any lovey dovey stuff back.
Until this year.
Putting my feelings aside, I knew the grandparents would appreciate some kind of token of love from Elise.
Key words: from Elise. Not me.
So I did what any good mom would do, and helped Elise make some handmade items to send to her grandparents.
She picked out some cute hand towels at Target, made some heart-shaped cookies {by ‘made’, I mean we made a trip to Trader Joe’s}, snapped a cute photo of herself to put in a heart frame, and finally, she created a little valentine with her hands.
Lots of work for a little baby, but she persevered.
I just put some cookies in a ziploc bag and stapled a tag {that Elise designed, of course} to the top of it.
thanks for being so sweet to me
Simple dimple. And much cuter than just sending the bag they came in—which was yellow, and totally didn’t fit in with the color scheme.
Elise is picky like that.
Next, we traced her hands {as best I could—some of it ended up being freehand, since anytime paper touches her hand it goes directly to her mouth} and made a tiny accordion style card.
i love you….THIS MUCH! {and more}
Awww…….
And since she’s too young to use a needle, I stitched up a little felt envelope to hold them, then we threw everything in a box and doodled love notes on the outside.
I think she had fun making everything, despite me mumbling out loud, “I can’t believe we’re drawing so many pink hearts”.
The moral to this story is that having a child changes things, no matter how much you always told yourself that it wouldn’t*.
Somewhere, somebody is laughing and saying, “i told you so!”.
*I still won't celebrate it, but if Elise wants to, I will draw pink hearts
like my life depends on it.










































