Be mine

As Valentine's Days go, I knew this year wasn't going to be all that memorable. Jeff had to work. AJ had hockey. Sydney had skating. All the ingredients of a perfect, romantic holiday. Uh huh.

And I wasn't particularly bothered by it. I'm far too practical to want my husband to spend a ridiculous amount of money on roses because the calendar told him he should. We exchanged cards this morning. Jeff, with Sydney's help, made the card he gave me. It was by no means fancy, but the thought of them working together on it makes me smile far more than flowers or a box of chocolate ever could. Okay, chocolate might make me smile more. But then I'd feel guilty for eating it, and I'd get frustrated that Jeff didn't remember I was trying to count calories. So yeah, the homemade card wins.

As I stood shivering at the side of the practice rink this evening, I joked with some of the other moms about how our younger self's visions of Valentine's Day differed from reality. I started formulating in my mind what I'd write about my kids and this day: specifically, how girls already seem to embrace this holiday as being for them, while boys begrudgingly do what they're told to do. For instance, Sydney, with very little prompting/nagging from me, "signed" each of the cards she would give to her classmates.  

I debated whether I should pencil in her name, to make it legible they were from her. But then decided not to bother. All that would do is tell her classmates' parents that Sydney had given a card/candy. Her friends won't know the difference. They can't read.

AJ cared about Valentine's Day only enough to complain and question why he had to go to school on a holiday. I reminded him that if he didn't have school, then he wouldn't get candy from his classmate. Suddenly school didn't seem like such a bad thing.

Sydney's Valentine enthusiasm continued into the evening. When we finally got home from the hockey rink, she excitedly showed me all the cards and treats she'd gotten.

Wanting to again highlight the difference between boys and girls, I started questioning AJ about what he did for Valentine's Day.

"We mostly just did Valentine's centers today." (Centers are smal group learning activities.)

"When did you pass out your Valentines?" I asked.

"Um, that was at the end of the day."

"Who had the coolest Valentines or treats?"

"Um, probably Jordan. His were Legos. Lego police."

As we'd talked, I'd looked through his folder. There I found a card he made. I asked him to come and read it to me.

"Okay," he agreed with little to no enthusiasm. "But this counts as part of my minutes I have to read today."

"Dear dad and mom... Oh wait, February 14, 2012. Dear dad and mom," he began. (They've been working on letter writing form this week.)

"Happy Valentine Day," he continued. "Mrs Baird said we should just say Valentine, not Valentines."

"Okay, keep going," I said, trying not to read ahead.

"Thank you for doing good things for me. Please don't get divorced."

As he closed with "Love, Alex" my mind screamed, "What? WHAT?"

Taking a deep breath, I thanked him for the card and assured him that Dad and I would never get a divorce.

"Why did you even think that?" I asked. We haven't been fighting. There've been no recent arguments I can even think of.

AJ shrugged, "Sometimes people get divorced."

"Well, yes, sometimes they do," I agreed. "But your Dad and I love each other very much." I continued to push, "Is one of your friends' parents getting a divorce?"

"No," he told me. And then at last, "But a kid at Cool Kids told me his parents are divorced."

Bingo!

"Do divorces make people sad?" he asked.

"Yeah, they do."

"Then why do people get divorced if it makes them sad?"

Oh, how I love his logic!

"Sometimes people stop loving each other, and so they're more sad being married than they would be alone. But don't worry," I assured him again. "Dad and I love each other and we talk any time we get upset. So you don't have to worry about us getting divorced."

"I know," he said. "That's what Mrs. Baird told me, too."

Oh, joy. What must his teacher be thinking? Thankfully, I'm already scheduled to go with AJ to school tomorrow morning for a special "I Love to Read" month event. I'm not sure what I'll say to his teacher, but I'll think of something. Hopefully by this point in the year, she's already used to the way AJ's mind works, and so won't think this too out of character for him.

There's nothing like Valentine's Day to trigger a conversation about divorce. At least in our case, there's a happy ending.