I know I am two days late, but Happy Mothers Day!
This week is chock-full o'activity and I have 15 minutes to type at you....here I go!
My mother's day was wonderful.
I got up, had coffee, watered my plants and generally enjoyed quiet all morning.
I'm not ashamed to tell you that I do not go to church on Mom's Day.
Well, I get up at a very early hour every single morning. Even on Saturdays because there is always a game, or project, or something going on.
Plus, I'm no spring-chick, so sleeping-in tends to be elusive.
Anyway, I am ALWAYS going, going, going.
For the most part I don't mind, but on Mother's Day, I take a day of rest. I don't have to be preened over or served or coddled. I just don't want to have to rush.
The kids slept in till after nine, so I enjoyed three solid hours on the deck in the chilly morning. I read and then I painted my toenails pink. The Mister offered to make me breakfast, but not being ready for anything more solid than my pot of french roast, I declined.
My generous and fun neighbor, Helen, was puttering in her exquisite flower garden so I meandered over (still in my pajama's) to give her a Mother's Day hug. As we chatted she was cutting blooms from the bush that were bigger than life, making a bouquet.
I didn't realize it was for me.
Sometime later that handsome groom of mine left to teach his Sunday school class. Eventually I made myself an egg with a side of toast and blackberry jam. Oh, and hot coffee. There must always be fresh hot coffee.
I enjoyed breaking my fast with the sounds of a North Carolinian morning, under the shadow of my rose and peony bouquet.
Later I opened my gifts.
We ate leftover pizza for lunch, and headed to the strawberry patch to pick 12 pounds of strawberries.
I specifically picked the patch that was close to a Sonic (we don't have one near our home) and we all had cream-slushes.
Then I came home, put my pj's back on, and sat myself down in my deck chair and called my mom. We talked at length about everything and nothing. We planned what we will do together next weekend. (I'll be in Tucson for 48 hours for a wedding.)
Then I crocheted while watching The Wedding Planner, my iPod propped up on my knees.
The kids played in the yard, while The Mister finished the treehouse.
Everybody made themselves their own dinner. We call it a FFY night : Fend For Yourself.
I rested, felt loved, and kept my family close.
It was a magnificent day.