It's a Valentine's Pinterest War!

Valentine's is a day of love, excitement, and perhaps for a few of us, a reason to get lucky during the week.  Valentine's is also a holiday of low self esteem when you are a mom, when your child comes home from school with that handmade mailbox full of reasons why you suck as a mom.

When I was a kid the only dilemma on Valentine's day was how to write the name of the boy you "liked" on your Hardy Boy valentine.  If I write it too big he'll know I like him.  If I write it too small, he'll think I DON'T like him.  Wait, does this Valentine say "love you," oh I can't send this to him because then he'll really know that I like him.

Now, no one sent me the memo about the competition on Valentine's Day between Moms.  That this holiday was renamed, "Oh I'm a crafty wench," for Moms as their children brought in the hand decorated wagon of full of homemade treats and cards for the class.

My first hint was watching all the different things my friends were pinning on Pinterest.  "Wow, look Martha is making clay impressions of her son's heart out of cookie dough then hiding a SB Anthony dollar in each one before she baked them.  Now, that's crafty."

I thought it was the usual Pinterest game, that people were simply in a pinning war to show other Moms that we can all find the super craft stuff, but no one really DOES it right?

Then the mailbox comes home.  One Mom hand stenciled a Robert Frost poem in a perfect heart on a cut out doily attached to beautiful Valentine themed card stock.  Another, made her own Valentine paper with seeds of love in the paper, the children should plant the paper and watch their love grow.  And yet another drew 27 scale replicas of the Universe with a little "you are here with my heart" decoupaged over the Earth.  (Oh very crafty, a learning lesson and valentine?)  Then there's the one that made cookies that look like each child with hand lettered love poem for each one.

Me, I sent in the boxes of Candy Hearts.  I've got a whole Pinterest board of crap I could do for Valentine's Day but who's got time for that.  The basketball game was on last night and I had better things to do.

What I am going to do, is find some really crafty Pinterest pin about what to do with all the leftover Valentine crap and pin it to start freaking all the Moms out.  Maybe I can create a post Valentine, "Oh I can do crafty things with all your crafty things" holiday.

And you know what, my son went through his box, tossed all the cards and notes, even the exact replica of the human body in toothpicks, and went straight for the candy.  Take that you Moms.

How do you feel about Valentine's Day?

REAL Conversation Hearts

What candy hears should really say - For All The Single ladies--

U R NOT 4 ME

Y NOT GO AWAY

OUT OF YUR LEAGUE

U DON'T MAKE ENOUGH

DON'T WAIT 4 TXT

I'M NOT DESPERATE

TOO MUCH 4 U

NOT TODAY

NOT EVER

IT'S NOT ME IT'S U

LOOKS DO MATTER

C U LATER SUCCA

AIN'T GOT TIME FOR DAT

For the Kids in the family - 

YUR FACE - my boys love this saying so much, and it would fit so well on a conversation heart.

WTF? -  You know, Want The Fudge?

CLEAN YUR ROOM

Y YOU FIGHT

BRUSH YUR TEETH

STOP!

B-CAUSE I SAID SO

And Finally for us Moms - 

NAP 4 U

I'M IN THE TOILET, PLS!

GLASS O WINE

MILF

SEXY YOGA PANTS

CALL ME A SITTER

How to know Thanksgiving is over, or something smells...

Ten ways to know that the Thanksgiving holiday is OVER...

10.  You just realize your Pumpkin decorations are rotten.

9.   Your pants don't fit.

8.   You've lost the urge to eat pumpkin cake or drink pumpkin spice coffee.

7.  You're finally sick of turkey.

6.  You're afraid to step on the scale.

5.  You've become very fond of stretchy pants.

4.  You are still sore from pushing those shoppers out of the way on Black Friday.

3.  The dog has thrown up the wish bone.

2.  Monday morning felt like the first day of school after summer break - no one could get moving.

1.  You find  "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas...." stuck in your brain from the Christmas music on the radio!

The BIG Coverup - the training bra

Remember the first time you had to cover up?

Pre-teen, looking at my flat chest, I remember wishing I had something to cover up.  When they start to grow, my mother looked at my mosquito bites, worried I had cancer and took me to the doctor.  (I did tell you I was a devout Catholic growing up)  The doctor smiled at us and explained, "She's growing breasts."  Before I could understand the humiliation, she took me home and announced to the family, "It's time to go and buy some bras."

I felt like I was walking to my execution, the department store with my MOM, and into the lingerie department.

She starts embarrassing me the moment we hit the top of the escalator,
"Honey, where do you think the young girl, I mean lady bras are?"
"Mom!"  I watch a cute boy go by wishing he hadn't heard that exchange.

To make it better, she adds to the embarrassment:

"Excuse me?"
Cashier, "Yes."

"My daughter is buying her first bra.  Can you recommend something for her body type."
Cashier looks at my skin and bones, "Umm, you may want to hit the training bras in that corner, size extra small."
Extra small?  Training bras? Really?
I stand there feeling humiliated until my Mom returns with a handful of bras, "Honey, I found the extra smalls."  I watch other girls walk by with their Moms, they laugh overhearing then give me the look of, "just endure it and you'll get the bras."

"Look at these cute little puppies, and I really like the American Flag ones," she says holding them up high as other people walk by.  I grab then and turn toward the dressing room, wishing this experience over, silently thinking, I kind of like the american flag one too - makes me feel patriotic.

My mother is following me to the dressing room.
"What are you doing?"  I ask.
"I need to make sure they fit you, you'll need my expertise," she answers.
"Mom, they are bras.  I think I know what I am doing."  I ask, praying I can do this by myself.
She walks into the fitting room with me, and sits on the bench waiting for me to try them on.  Guess this will prepare me for when I end up in prison, my life in the gutter from this one bra experience.

"Honey, does it fit?"
"Mom!"
"Lemme see...."  She runs her finger along the side, snaps it.
"Mom!"
"I think it's perfect."

We go to the cashier, and I endure my mother tearing up as she explains to the cashier and the lady waiting in line behind us that her little girl is growing up, and wearing TRAINING bras.  Then she looks at both of them and winks.

The boys in the class run their fingers down my back to see if I are wearing a training bra, and even if it's simply mosquito bites, I've got the bra on.  I'll never thank her, but secretly glad we took that time to help me become a "woman."

Remember your first training bra?  Did you buy it or did your mom?