February 14 for parents: when romance dies, but you try anyway (because the chocolate is worth it)

I’m basically a professional at pretending I have my life together. But Valentine’s Day? It’s the one day a year that reminds me I’m not fooling anyone. Let me take you on a journey through the chaos that is Valentine’s Day for parents. Buckle up, because it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

1. The Great “Romantic” Dinner

Every year, my husband and I try to have a romantic dinner on Valentine’s Day. Keyword: try. Last year, we decided to cook a fancy meal at home. We lit candles, put on some music, and even opened a bottle of wine. It was perfect… for about 12 minutes. Then our 4-year-old walked in, saw the candles, and screamed, “FIRE! FIRE! CALL 911!” while our 7-year-old started crying because she thought we were having a party without her.

By the time we calmed them down, the food was cold, the wine was warm, and my husband was eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the pot. Romantic? No. Realistic? Absolutely.

2. The Valentine’s Day Cards

Let’s talk about Valentine’s Day cards for kids. Why are they such a big deal? My daughter’s school requires her to bring a card for every single kid in her class. That’s 25 cards. TWENTY-FIVE. And they all have to be personalized, because apparently, “To: You, From: Me” isn’t good enough anymore.

So there I am, at 11 PM, writing things like “To: Brayden, From: Emma” on tiny pieces of paper while my husband asks, “Why can’t we just buy pre-made ones?” Because, honey, we live in a society that judges parents based on how creative their kids’ Valentine’s cards are. And I refuse to be the mom who brings store-bought cards to the class party.

3. The Gift That Says “I Love You (But I’m Too Tired to Be Creative)”

Every year, my husband and I exchange gifts on Valentine’s Day. And by “exchange gifts,” I mean he buys me something last-minute from the gas station, and I pretend to be thrilled. Last year, he got me a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Sounds sweet, right? Wrong. It was half-empty. He ate the other half on the way home.

But you know what? I didn’t even care. Because by the time Valentine’s Day rolls around, I’m so exhausted that a half-eaten box of chocolates feels like a win.

4. The “Date Night” That Isn’t

This year, my husband and I decided to go on an actual date for Valentine’s Day. We got a babysitter, made reservations at a nice restaurant, and even put on real clothes instead of sweatpants. It was going to be perfect.

But then, halfway through dinner, my phone started blowing up. The babysitter sent me a photo of my kids having a meltdown because they couldn’t find their favorite stuffed animal. So there I was, trying to enjoy my overpriced pasta while texting the babysitter things like, “Check under the couch” and “No, don’t let them eat candy before bed!”

By the time we got home, the kids were asleep, the babysitter looked traumatized, and I was too tired to care about romance. But hey, at least we tried.

5. The Valentine’s Day Crafts

Why do schools insist on making parents do Valentine’s Day crafts? Last year, my daughter came home with a note saying she needed to make a “Valentine’s Day mailbox” for her class party. I thought, “How hard can it be?”

Turns out, very hard. I spent three hours cutting out hearts, gluing glitter, and trying to explain to my daughter why we couldn’t just use an old shoebox. By the time we finished, our kitchen looked like a craft store had exploded, and I was covered in glitter. And you know what? Glitter doesn’t come off. It’s like herpes—it stays with you forever.

6. The Chocolate Dilemma

Let’s be real: the best part of Valentine’s Day is the chocolate. But as a parent, you can’t even enjoy it in peace. Every year, I buy myself a fancy box of chocolates, hide it in the back of the pantry, and tell myself, “This is just for me.”

But somehow, my kids always find it. Last year, I caught my son eating my chocolates while sitting in the dog’s bed. When I asked him what he was doing, he said, “I’m hiding from you.” At least he’s honest.

7. The Pressure to Be “Romantic”

Here’s the thing about Valentine’s Day as a parent: there’s so much pressure to be romantic, but no one has the energy for it. By the time the kids are in bed, all you want to do is sit on the couch, eat chocolate, and watch TV.

Last year, my husband tried to be romantic by giving me a foot rub. It was sweet… until he fell asleep halfway through. And you know what? I didn’t even wake him up. Because at that point, I was just grateful for the silence.

8. The Morning After

The day after Valentine’s Day is always the same: the kids are hyped up on sugar, the house is a disaster, and you’re left wondering why you even bothered. But you know what? Despite the chaos, there’s something kind of beautiful about it.

Because Valentine’s Day as a parent isn’t about grand gestures or perfect moments. It’s about love in all its messy, chaotic, glitter-covered glory. It’s about half-eaten chocolates, last-minute cards, and foot rubs that end in snoring. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So, to all the parents out there: Happy Valentine’s Day. May your chocolates be plentiful, your kids be quiet, and your romance be… well, realistic. Because at the end of the day, love isn’t about perfection. It’s about surviving the chaos together. And maybe sharing a box of chocolates.

For more stories like this click here💕✨