From Canada, in February: A Valentine

From Canada, in February: A Valentine

It’s February, and so I’d like to send a love letter to all the parents* who…

 …develop a Chandler Bing claw hand from cutting out printable Valentines for 60 schoolchildren…

…find themselves hollering, “Keep your penis to yourself” up the stairs while chopping vegetables, which will be cooked into a healthy dinner that approximately one-third of the members of your household will deign to eat… 

…do laundry daily, because the alternative is a Denali-sized pile of unmentionables awaiting attention by the end of a school week… 

…sometimes prefer the dog, because he doesn’t talk back or roll his eyes or lose his expensive stainless steel water bottle on a bi-weekly basis…

…try to join Pinterest to find ideas for birthday party games but immediately self-sabotage because Pinterest is overwhelming and besides, the kids are just going to eat sugar and chase each other around the tiny house, and frankly if we can just avoid broken bones, the party will be a Goddamn success…

…are ninjas of fingernail cutting and car-to-bed carries…

…and miss who they were at 20, or 25, or hell, even 35…

And for those of you who stress eat your way through the polar vortex and then have to order “forgiving” clothing from expensive apparel websites…

…and think that having a child, or second child, or third child, might turn you into a little bit of an alcoholic…

…and sometimes lock yourself in the bedroom with a New Yorker and noise cancelling headphones…

…and don’t even let in your spouse…

It’s okay. Your kids will outgrow valentines and learn to wash their own damn clothes. Those snuffly little middle of the night snuggles will be a balm for stressful days and those epic failures of birthday parties will become the stuff of fond family memories. Your kids will learn to keep their privates private, for a few years anyway, and the dog will be your truest companion and as a bonus will never leave you to go to college. In the meantime, I’m here for you if you’ll be here for me. Fortitude, cranky February parents. Spring is coming.

*As it turns out, I think this is just a love letter to me, from me. C’est la vie.

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