DIY VDay for the lil one (but mostly mama)

I am a crafty-geek grrrl with tubs and tubs of supplies that have gathered dust since Lil E was born. I have three or four scrapbooks all organized...in my head. Last month, I gave up the scrappin' fantasies and moved the tubs to the dungeon basement, alongside the newborn onesies and evil breastpump.  I know there will be a time when I will get to go to tooooown with my circular paper cutter, but until then, I'm left with a couple of boxes of paper and a hole punch on my desk.

All of my geeked-out-on-grommets-and-whatnot tendencies made me love my grrrl CityMama even more. She shares here how to be a responsible recycler while making a-freaking-dorable Valentine's cards for your little one to take to class.  Add a little fine-grade glitter and I'd be in heaven at CityMama's house.

I admit, when I read the post, I'd already divulged in a little crafty goodness myself. All in the name of Valentine's Day and my precious little toddler, of course. I testosteroned it up with a truck theme (smiling and nodding at Lil E's request for Bobcat cards and then getting a concerned-understanding furrowed brow look and just admitting, "Even I'm not that good, love. How about dump trucks?"

And so, a stack of Valentines was born. Since I'm all anti-candy onslaught for the wee ones, we chose sheets of stickers for each kiddo and attached them with ribbon to the card (yeaaaaahhhhh, hole punch!). I was pleased. We still have glue stick on our fingertips, but it was fun and I got a little puffed up when he was excited to take them to co-op on Tuesday.

Eleven cards made. Two sheets of sweet scrapbook paper cut slashed and reassembled into trucks. Crafty quotient fulfilled. Kiddie celebration amply accomplished.

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VDay is only for hotties in our house

Love is in the air in our little apartment. That is, if love comes in the form of oppressively hot radiator heat.

I shouldn't complain. For three days during a hell of a cold snap here in Chicago, three of our four radiators were completely cold. On Sunday, Bruce and I huddled together on the couch under blankets, which would sound romantic except that I was wearing an extra sweatshirt, hat, gloves and two pairs of socks over my clothes. Our landlord heard our teeth chattering and fixed the radiators so well that it is now officially July in our household. July without the air-conditioners, flip-flops and lazy afternoons at the park. July inside, February snowdrifts, slush puddles and frozen wind tundras outside.

But again, not complaining. At least the heat is on. On Valentine's Day, that is good. In many respects.

We'll be celebrating in true parent style, several days late and on a shoestring budget. I am good with that, happy not to feel the pressure and just focus on being together at our own pace. Here's how we are getting romantic on a budg:

First, we're seeing a play with tickets my parents passed on to us. They're not going because they're sunning and funning in Florida, so no need to harbor any feelings of sympathy that they will be missing out on a night of theatre.

Second, we will be having some kind of fabulous (possibly) dinner and (definitely) dessert and (double most definitely) drinks using an envelope of thank you-cash I got today at a market study on (don't throw up) deli meat. I eat sliced ham so we can drink extra dirty martinis with double olives. Good trade-off, right? And yes, I am that extra dirty grrrl. At least with my martoonis.

Finally, we'll be exchanging presents using five-year-old gift certificates to Williams-Sonoma and Crate & Barrel. Not that we need anymore crap to clutter up our tiny, overheated apartment, but still...A grrrl can always use another set of teensy, adorable appetizer plates, mais oui?

This whole night will really truly happen this weekend because of my kind-hearted BFF who actually loves to babysit for Lil E. No, really. We leave a twenty spot tucked in the take-out binder just for her and we're good. As much as I'm willing to pay $60+ for a romantic evening out with the hubs, I'm so thankful to have my own brilliant, fun, loving, kiddo dream of a friend to save the day. Who knew cupid changed diapers?

For now, we're doing it up kiddie style, with pink heart-shaped pancakes and BBQ-sauce covered heart-shaped meatloaf, and of course, a Bob the Builder Leggo set that really says...(Of course, it doesn't say anything but "Can we do it? Yes, we can!," which is a creepy thing to mention near Valentine's Day, but there it is.) All of it really says, I'm glad we're together. We're sweating our asses off, but I'm glad we're together.

Happy Valentine's Day! May you find the heat of the holiday in your home, too.

Photo: Bruce & Lil E collaborate on a love song / Jessica Ashley

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Oatmeal, with a capital G

This morning at breakfast, Lil E begged Bruce and I to tell him a story. And really, how can you resist a kid with a chin covered in oatmeal, waving a plastic kiddie spoon around in front of you? Bruce began.

"Once upon a time, there was a little boy..."

On the heels of his last words, Lil E waved his spoon again, "Mommy, tell me a diff'rent story!"

I took my turn and when I saw the next request about to come, I got there before he could.

"Lil E, you tell us a story." And so he took a turn.

"Once upon a time, there was a daddy who looooooved to watch Lil E play golf. He HIT! da ball out of the sand and onto the green and he use his driver and putter to hit in da hoooooole."

The he stopped with a satisfied pause. I asked him for more, maybe share a mommy story.

"Once upon a time," he leapt in with a decided nod, "there was a mommy who loooooved to work. She work at da cafe and Lil E cryyyyyy because he wants his mommy."

In the silence, he nodded and took a big bite of his breakfast. Of course, I teared up. Of course, Bruce made a sympathetic face and then quickly changed the subject. And of course, that damn guilt -- the one I so ardently push away with all of my intellectualizing and passion for my work and for those hours spent typing away at the only free wi-fi spot in our neighborhood -- crept up behind one swift, simple toddler story early this morning.

Dagger, meet heart. Heart, meet dagger.

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