Next Monday is Valentine's Day, traditionally a dreamy time, presenting endless possibilities to even the most diehard cynic.

As younger and younger children start participating, the whole thing seems just adorable. Whatever about puppies in red ribbons canoodling on card covers, the sight of your little eight-year-old hand in hand with a loved one, all beaming and pecks on the cheek, is enough to reduce most parents to mush.

But behind the romance, there's a certain harsh reality we'd all rather avoid. Adults with a number of serious relationships under their belts can be floored by a rejection - so much so that it is not uncommon for an adult to seek therapy to come to terms with the loss. So how on earth is a child, with no coping skills, much less any understanding of love, supposed to feel? Unfortunately, the Valentine's Day tears of children who have not received a card are often treated quite flippantly.

"The fact is, we don't really know just how deeply young children are affected by the idea that their peers either find them attractive, or don't," says Marie Murray, head of psychology at St Vincent's Hospital, Fairview, Dublin. "Delving into the impact of romantic rejection on children is quite new to psychologists."

From a very young age, children are watching television programmes which revolve around how important it is to be sexually attractive. Even a children's television station, Nickelodeon, feature shows such as Sabrina the Teenage Witch and Moesha, which are based largely on the romantic exploits of teenagers.

A parent recently contacted Education & Living concerned about her eight-year-old daughter, who seemed a bit restless. When the mother started asking her how things were at school, it transpired that her daughter didn't feature on the list of girls - in order of preference - whom the boys fancied. Her daughter was feeling quite rejected and embarrassed.

Feeling a bit stupid herself, the mother went to talk to the teacher. The teacher took the mother very seriously and explained that in fact the boyfriend/girlfriend situation in the class had got so out of hand she had banned relationships, love notes etc. The children in the class were becoming increasingly bewildered and unsettled by it all, she said. It's hard to believe that something as sweet as a couple of love notes, or a Valentine's Day card between two eight-year-olds, could be so complicated.

"The problem is that you have to look at it in the context of what is now known as `the disappearance of childhood'," explains Murray. "Participating in Valentine's Day, or getting involved in a `romantic' situation under the age of 10, is one more launch straight into adolescent or adult behaviour. "It is part of a cumulative effect which sees children as young as five singing pop songs which have very sexual connotations, the `sexy' sort of clothing eight-year-olds wear, the programmes they watch - and now encourages them to declare their love.

"What makes it all so sinister is the way it is cloaked in `cuteness'. It can quite easily seem ridiculous to get concerned about what appears to be so sweet and innocent. But it is actually an invasion of the world of children."

According to Murray, propelling children into an adult world leads to an erosion of appropriate concerns in favour of what should be grown-up worries. "Rating them in terms of whether or not they are loveable is not something children should have to deal with," she says. "It is relevant to adolescent identity issues, which adolescents find hard enough. Foisting Valentine's Day on young children is just another marketing strategy, relevant to something which children are not emotionally or psychologically ready for."

Traditionally, middle childhood was seen as a magical time, a period of relative ease when many early developmental tasks had been accomplished, when children had a little bit of independence - an uncomplicated era of "innocence", says Murray.

"The sort of concerns this age group would have are whether or not the teacher likes them, whether they can go quicker on their bicycle and whether they can keep pace with the skills of their peers.

"But romance at that age is so seductive for adults, it all seems so cute and charming. For the children themselves, nice little hearts and ribbons and cupids are so pretty and lovely.

"But behind the paraphernalia lies an inappropriate sexuality, and the possibility of rejection. In reality, buying into childhood romance means potential quasi-sexual rejection before our children are even sexualised beings."

Parents should probably discourage the sending of cards, Murray says. And whether or not children get Valentine's Day cards next week, parents should have a fairly dismissive attitude to the whole thing.

"If your child doesn't get one, do take their feelings very seriously and comfort them," she advises. "But dismiss the activity as silly. Similarly, if your child does get a card, agree it's very nice, but leave it at that. Childhood is a wonderful time, far too short to be worrying about something like Valentine's Day cards."