There are lots of things I should realize sooner.

It’s a theme for my life in general. But when it comes to kids and special events (especially at school), I am particularly inept at preparing for simple, predictable things. School parties take my B-plus parenting average down to a C-minus.

There are Valentine’s parties at both boys’ schools this week (one today and one tomorrow). Hubs was incredibly adroit this year and got the kids to Target to pick out Valentines early in the week. The kids even got started writing their names on the little cards days in advance. We were rocking it, and to be honest, feeling a little smug.

Despite the fact that I ran to both Target and the grocery store two other times after that, it never once occurred to us until Skywalker mentioned it last night that he would also want to give out CANDY. Because the days when first graders can hand out simple cards [“I Choo-Choo-Choose You!”] and the occasional box of those disgusting chalky message hearts are loooong gone.

So Hubs ran out again last night — my hero, especially since he loathes Valentine’s Day — to pick up Tootsie Pops and meticulously tape them to the little cards. Did I mention he’s awesome? Even as we scrambled for Skywalker’s party today, we both assumed that for Fozzie’s little preschool party (where raisins and carrots are not allowed because they are choking hazards) candy would be out of bounds and the valentines alone would be enough.

It wasn’t until half an hour ago, when the kids were tucked away in bed, that the teacher’s words this afternoon as I picked up Fozzie finally registered in my addled brain. “We’ll have the kids all line up to put treats in each other’s bags…”

Treats. Oh, hell.

As I see it, here are my options:

1. Get out of my pajamas and back into clothes and race to the store before they close to get some crappy candy that the parents of other preschoolers will quietly throw away tomorrow night.
2. Get out of my pajamas and back into clothes and race  to the store to buy some cutesy plastic party favor things that the other parents will quietly throw away early next week.
3. Give Fozzie’s friends my stash of individually wrapped Ghirardelli chocolates from the pantry. Yeah, not happening. Next.
4. Let him hand out whatever else we can find 23 of in the house. So far the options are: rubber bands, corn chips, drained AA batteries or individual playing cards.
5. Suck it up, endure the idea that Fozzie will be devastated and the teachers and other parents will totally judge me for being lazy and thoughtless, and let the kid take the damn valentines without accompanying “treats.” It’s enough. Right?

Right now I’m standing firm on #5. He wrote his name on all the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cards: no easy task at 4 1/2. Neither he nor any of the other Pre-K kids need more sugary sweets or tiny plastic crap. And I have this vague feeling I might be winning some sort of parenting moral victory, though I can’t exactly articulate what it is.

Does that mean I will drop Fozzie off and go straight to work in the morning? That I will not rearrange my day just a little to run out for emergency treats? That I won’t cave to irrational feelings of Mommy Inadequacy?

We’ll see. Like I said, I’m not that great at predicting.

Edit to add:

MJ Pullen

M.J. Pullen is a distracted writer and the mom of two boys in Roswell, Georgia, where she is absolutely late for something important right now. Her books include quirky romantic comedies and playful women's fiction. She blogs erratically with writing advice, random observations, and reflections on raising very loud kids and dogs. Join her Distracted Readers newsletter list for updates, free content, giveaways and more.