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What Valentine’s Day Looks Like For a Single Mom Whose Valentine Is Her Child
Updated: Dec. 20, 2016
Originally Published: Feb. 13, 2016
As a single mom, Valentine’s Day doesn’t revolve around roses, chocolates, or romantic dinners. Not even close. For me, it’s all about the last-minute scramble. On February 13th, I find myself digging through the reject card aisle at Target, painstakingly stuffing Pop Rocks and Sweet Tarts into tiny envelopes, and then shooting off an email to my kid’s teacher at 9 p.m. for the class list because, let’s be real, I can only remember five out of the 23 students. Once those sugar-filled valentines are ready to go, I’ll jump onto Pinterest in search of a “healthy” snack that’s both parent-approved and kid-friendly. It always seems simple enough, but it inevitably turns into a five-hour project—think a ladybug crafted from chocolate-dipped clementines or watermelon hearts paired with a grape cupid on toothpicks. Yes, this is my reality. On a day meant for love, I’m busy creating a fruit deity.
Being a single mom means holidays take on a new meaning. My child’s teacher steps in as the “other parent,” sending home cards from my little one for every school holiday. Without those macaroni hearts on construction paper or handprint turkeys, my fridge would be empty, and my heart would feel a bit hollow. But don’t shed a tear for me—I’m perfectly fine with it. At this stage in my life, I simply don’t have the bandwidth for a valentine. Sure, I’m not a hideous troll, and I could potentially date, but right now, I’d be the most distracted partner ever.
“Here’s a card! I couldn’t sign it because I was busy picking up books from the library, grocery shopping, making calls, cooking dinner, and cleaning the guinea pig cage. By the time I made it to the store, the only card left was in Spanish, addressed to someone’s grandma—‘¡Feliz día de San Valentín, abuelita!’ All the candy was gone, but I did find a Smurfs Pez dispenser in the parking lot. So, Happy Valentine’s Day!”
I have my daughter with me 100% of the time, except for a few weekends each year. Finding time to date is like hunting for a missing Barbie shoe at the bottom of a toy box—pointless, frustrating, and ultimately a lost cause. This year, instead of making dinner reservations or shopping for a sexy outfit, I’ll be picking up my sugar-high daughter from school. Her lips will be smeared with neon pink frosting, and for the next few hours, she’ll be coming down from her sugar rush, bouncing off the walls and begging for “just one more gummy heart! Please, Mommy! I neeeeeed it!” I’ll wipe away the frosting, give her a kiss on the forehead, and remind her to take life one day at a time.
While everyone around me is posting sappy sentiments on social media—“I love my partner!” next to pictures of extravagant bouquets or boxes of chocolates—I’ll glance over at my kiddo, who, after the sugar shakes and maybe a bit of vomit, has finally drifted off to sleep. And you know what? I’ve never loved a valentine more.
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Summary:
Valentine’s Day for a single mom is a whirlwind of last-minute preparations centered around her child rather than romantic gestures. It’s a day filled with crafting class valentines, dealing with sugar highs, and cherishing the unique love that exists between mother and child.