|The books I will not read today|
I sleep in, maybe until 9:00, when my daughters bring me breakfast in bed and cuddle round for awhile. I then lounge in my favorite chair, reading my pile of library books before they're due back (those 7 day and 14 day books are rough when my greedy eyes have grabbed more than one) and writing a while. My sons come to visit and catch me up on little details of their lives. I nap, watch the Red Sox win, snack, come out for dinner with my family, then walk in the waning sunshine to the Walnut Beach Creamery for Mud ice cream.
In reality, this is how it goes, at least today.
|My early risers Liz & Ava|
|Breakfast a la Sheyanne|
|The chair I will not read in. |
The laundry I will do.
|The present-covered bed I will not lounge in|
|Three generations (I'm the fourth. Taking the picture)|
|Ciara and Mariah rocking the defense here against Guilford|
It was a good day. Down to earth. I saw all my kids for at least one minute. I read in the car for a few minutes before each game. I didn't cook, and beyond making my bed and folding a little laundry, I had it easy. I had fun with the other parents at the games, my brother and his family, my mom and pop at the picnic, I love Fudgie, and chai, and omelettes, and the sweet potato fries and shrimp kabobs at dinner, I love yoga and naps and watching the Red Sox and unwinding with Mark and that he got me a printer.
|Lizzy bringing me coffee|
If those things did not happen, I'd feel more pressure for today to be more perfect, or different. But when I have felt that way--when my husband worked every weekend and I was home alone with 7 kids under the age of 10 with a full-time job and full-time grad school to contend with--I was disappointed. There's simply no way for one day to "make up" for being overstretched and outnumbered in your out-of-control daily life. It's just one day. And the cooking, laundry, bedding, meltdowns still have to be dealt with. They never end.
|The "blue jeans" flowers|
Happy Mother's Day with Love, Lisa