Mother's Day...some might call it a hallmark holiday. Most know better than to question a day celebrating those who have brought forth new life though, and so they obligingly buy a $3 card and some lilies. I wondered what my first Mother's Day would be like. Would B make me dinner and send me a gorgeous flower arrangement? Would I graciously bask in the glow of that glorious title, Mother? Well, turns out I'm not much of a basker apparently. A continuous torrential downpour plagued the day and B ended up having to work. I woke up grumpy and with a sinus headache. I picked up my sleeping boy that morning, cradled his warm body, kissed his soft forehead, and told myself to just be grateful that I was spending the day with him. The brat inside me? She wanted to pout and wallow in the pity of B being at work and no flowers, dinner, or gloriousness in sight. I tried to shake my sour mood, but it wasn't going anywhere. I made Coop a bottle, turned on some HGTV, and settled in on the couch to feed little baby, as I often call him. Not long after that, my grandmother called and in that "grandmother" way of hers, talked me right into loading up Cooper and coming to church and then having dinner with the family after. However, by the time I finished the feeding, got myself ready, Cooper ready, the diaper bag ready, and put the car seat base back in my car (of course I had taken it out earlier in the week), there was no hope of making it to church on time. Boy, did I ever miss the extra help B provides! So, I decided that I'd just meet everyone for dinner after they got out of church. Just so you can picture it in your mind, I was drenched from the everlasting monsoon and my curly hair was somehow both wilted and fuzzy at the same time. I drove to Cracker Barrel as it was nearly time for church to be over and waited, only to get a message from my cousin that the dinner had been changed to 3:30pm. So, I took my wilted self back home, feeling even sorrier for myself. As little baby and I made our way back into the house I looked beside the back door and saw these sitting there:
Oh! That darling man! He came through...how foolish of me to think he would let the occasion pass without something to mark it. I found myself smiling in spite of it all. With a little more spring in my step I went on in the house and got ready to feed baby again (man, that kid eats often!). As I was talking to him and he was cooing and gooing at me, he told me "Happy Mother's Day!"...I mean, not in so many words, but more like this:
