I am wishy-washy on this special day of extra love. Aside from the romance of it, I love all of the pink and red accessories to go with dessert after dessert after dessert (Oh hey, sweet tooth). To me, it is just a day to love and be loved, oh and enjoy a few more sweets than usual of course.

When I was younger, my mom did not throw me birthday parties. It was so sad, and I was deprived. I’m just kidding!! She was not a fan of asking for gifts and all in all just wanted to do something with a twist, so I hosted a Valentine’s Day party every year. And every year it went exactly the same.

We would go all out for these parties, you know, for little girls that probably did not notice the detail whatsoever. There were doilies under each plate, champagne flutes bubbling with pink milk, red tomato soup with heart shaped grilled cheese, and of course, a chocolate fountain. There were fancy name tags at each seat and balloons just about everywhere. The decor was spot on because hello, my mom is pretty amazing. (Side note: just because your mom is good at something, does not mean you will be. Lesson learned. For me- decorating.)

The party would be perfectly placed before we went to bed, and honestly I don’t know who was more excited. My mom to see her girl have so much fun with her friends? My brother and dad to have this day of girls OVER with? Or me to have people at my house? (and get this — it wasn’t even my birthday!!!)

So the next morning came, my dad would go get flowers (by the fourth year, we knew they were coming), and we would finish up a few last minute things. Is there anything more exciting than hearing the doorbell ring for anticipated guests? I simply couldn’t wait! As soon as everyone would arrive, we would giggle and play the games my mom had organized.

All was well in the Valentine house. And just like that, I would get sick. Every. Single. Year. On the dot, I would get sick before lunch at my party we had worked so hard on. Now one would think that after it happened the third year, we would stop having them, and in hindsight that would have made a lot of sense, but then what memories would I have for Valentine’s Day.

I love having memories — the good and the bad. When we look at pictures of these heart day adventures, we just die laughing about how ironic these parties turned out. Even though nothing went as planned, they make way better memories than any smooth party I’ve ever been to. I’m not getting sick this year, don’t worry- we DID learn by the fifth year.

P.S. Why did my friends keep coming?