I have fond memories of my Dad having a Valentine trinket for each of his girls when we got up in the morning: one year it was little boxes of chocolates, once it was chocolate heart 'suckers', once it was a chocolate rose. I don't remember the other things, but no matter what they were Dad's gifts were the best part of the day.
In high school for the two days closest to Valentine's the whole school would play the Heart Game: one day girls (the next, the boys) were given a paper heart with their name and the first boy they talked to they had to give their 'heart' to--whoever made it through the day retaining their 'heart' was a 'winner'. This was basically a christian school's ploy to keep the sexes from mixing but I looked forward to it every year. I managed to keep my 'heart' every year until my senior year (when apparently I became too chatty) - I lost it in second period Government class to Jon Lafollet whom I couldn't help saying something sarcastic to. Oooh! I wanted to punch him! But the next day I actually got one of the boy's hearts: from the quietest boy in school! I'm still proud of that.
Now that two of my three kids are in school Valentine's is becoming a much bigger deal in my house. We have to buy (no, I am not making seventy valentines) little cards that appeal to each child, decide if the card merits additional candy, address the cards to individuals, and deliver them in a timely manner. This requires about three weeks worth of anticipation and organization: more work than I put in to Christmas!
Boy One found (amazingly) cards that the receiver could fold into paper airplanes; Boy Two picked out the same 'moving' pet pictures as last year; and Girl honed in on the Rapunzel box. That was easy. We picked out two bags of heart-shaped lollipops and one bag of SweetTarts to affix to the cards with invisible tape, because everyone knows that a Valentine is just that much more impressive if it comes with sugar. Then we picked a day to write out all the 'messages'.
|Boy One, carefully using his best handwriting (see how he holds his pencil? His Occupational Therapist is tearing her hair out trying to get him to do it correctly).|
|Girl and Boy Two - all three took this project very seriously.|
I'm always surprised how much people appreciate the gesture.
On a personal note, this year my husband bought me a toilet seat for Valentines (the one in our townhouse has been broken since we moved in four years ago) and then worked until 8pm when he came home and we watched two episodes of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine before I read my book in bed while he was downstairs putting the finishing touches on a work presentation. Be still my heart.