Second Sunday in May

Which is, apparently, Mother’s Day. Which I really need to start checking before I buy majorly expensive gifts for people. Which is why I spent last night not with my children or mother but at a comedy show for my husband’s birthday. Which was amazing and funny and we had a great time and I love him, but still, you know, babies.

Anyway! This weekend was incredibly busy, so I have a headache, indigestion, a house that looks like a bomb went off, and no pictures of me and my children from yesterday. We did get some on Saturday, though, but I really feel like the family odyssey to Door County deserves more than a sentence.

Even though it didn’t really feel like Mother’s Day, though, it was a beautiful day filled with family and love and sacraments and laughter. I got beautiful cards from my husband and in-laws, and awesome gifts from Buzz, who knows how much I enjoy the fermented things in life…


Wine bottle candelabra and awesome book filled with cute booze sayings. He knows me so well.

…and the caffeinated things in life…



ADORABLE K-cup holder from my in-laws. So. Cute.

My grandfather-in-law also made me this gorgeous piece of woodwork that’s…I don’t know, like a valet or something? I’m using it in the kitchen as kind of a family workstation. It’s beautiful and I love it so hard. It makes mail fun.

But without a doubt, the best present I received was the picture that Squeaks drew for me (her grandpa showed her how to draw a heart)…


(That’s me and her and a bunch of hearts because she loves me. It’s gorgeous.)

She and her grandma also made a series of questions with her answers for me..


I am beyond enchanted that she thinks I’m 21, and she is spot-on with the Target and sleep. Observant kid.

Also, the “lots of other good food” is kind of adorable given that she WON’T EVER EAT DINNER.

It made me realize, again, how lucky I am to have them.

Mother’s Day, like some other days, in our house is not an entirely happy occasion. It’s not that we’re sad all the time or Buzz doesn’t make me feel special or anything, but when people you love are in pain it’s impossible to not feel for them. When my husband and family (and eventually my daughter) hurt, it’s impossible not to hurt for them.

But I would so much rather have this life, with this husband who makes me feel so loved, and these two perfect children whom I will hold and hug and thank God for as long as He will let me have them, than any other.

And I think that’s really what Mother’s Day should be about.



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