I promise I will stop talking about Valentine's Day after this

Because I know you are all going: Who are you and what have you done with Marian?

And the truth is that Marian had two kids and went off the deep end and became a massive sap. But that is, of course, neither here nor there. The point is that:

Yesterday, I woke up and made these for breakfast:


And it just added to the awesomeness I was feeling after making my own super crafty Valentine's for the guys:


Yes, I know. It's hard to breathe around my incredibleness, right? Construction paper is my friend.

Anyway, then I dropped off Littles at Mother's Day Out and ran to Walmart for a couple quick things where I ran into a friend and her son, who informed me that he'd just seen a card that he wanted to buy me (me?!) because it said, "Best Mom Ever" and he wanted to buy it for me. Talk about ego exploding. (He did make sure to cover his bases by saying it could've been for his mom too--he's slick, that one).

So I'm going through my day feeling pretty good about myself, having at last arrived as the Best Mom Ever (it's true), when I picked up Littles and his bag of Valentine loot. 

Of course, the first thing he wanted to do was to show me every single cookie-accompanied, hand-made, Pinterest-worthy Valentine's card in there that the obviously superior mothers of the children in his class had sent.

Yeah, all I'd sent was a few Walmart-bought, Dr Seuss cards with the Little Man's name scrawled at the bottom.

I laughed until I cried. Or did I cry until I laughed? At any rate, goodbye, Best Mom Ever award! Maybe next year? (Nope, because I am so not that mom, c'est la vie.)

But for your viewing pleasure I will include a couple quick pictures of the kids laughing at me in my misfortune:


and


I'll close with this. The moral of the story is (I'm thinking really hard about this): eat all of those gourmet heart shaped cinnamon raisin biscuits because if you don't, the dog will, and then you'll be mad. Other morals are: be awesome. And: suck up to your friend's kids. And: hug your children, love Jesus, and pass the coffee.


If you have a desperate desire to read more about Valentine's Day, this made me laugh (and if you haven't checked out Jackie's blog, please do because she is one of those superior human beings we all want to be like) and this made me cry (why do you do this to me, Ann Voskamp? WHY?).

Lastly, I think I'll keep my Valentine. He's a hottie, AND he's got medals. And a bow tie.

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