Mother's Day 2010

I woke up (late) this morning to the sweet smell of mouth-watering crepes, which we filled with all kinds of yummy SoCal fruit. Dinner wan Coq-au-Grape Juice, lovingly slaved over again by PDaniel, for THREE HOURS. Tuesday he is, theoretically, giving me the whole day off for my Mother's Day present. Today was all about the food (he did all the dishes too, BY HAND). He also wrote a very sweet card which I know I'll pull out on difficult mothering days to come.

For her Mother's Day present to me, Cookie-Nut figured out how to climb on top of the (small) file cabinet in my bedroom and look out the window. Thanks a lot, only daughter.

Dangerboy had kind of a punchy day, but it started and ended well. In the morning, he gave me the second of two presents he made for me at school. The first was a rather halfheartedly-made key chain (given with his whole heart, or course). This second was a large card with his hand print in purple on the cover. Inside was a portrait, Mrs. potato Head style, of me, with the caption "MY MOM." Then there was a transcript of a little interview:

My mom's favorite color is: "I think it's pink."

My mom likes to eat: "She likes to eat Japanese food."

How old is your mom? "I think she's 39."

What does your mom do while you are at school? "Going to the store. Sometimes stay at home and plays."

What does your mom like to do with your daddy? "Like to talk."

What do you like to do with your mom? "I like to go outside and play."

If you could buy your mom a present, what would it be? "Buy something to read."

Why do you love your mom? "Because she likes me."

I liked this because I didn't realize how well my son knows me. With the exception of my favorite color (my iPod is pink? Other than that I don't really own any) and my age, which I don't really expect him to know, everything else was spot on. It poked my heart a little to think that the reason he knows his dad and I like to talk, and that I like to read, is that he sometimes has to wait for my attention while I do those things. And I think that sometimes he acts out because he can't have all the attention from me that he craves.

But he needs soooo much! And he loves me soooo much! How in the world can I live up to it?!? And if I can't, will he ever forgive me?

Ah, the questions of motherhood.

My Mother's Day with DB ended outside, with DB counting stars and me tallying them up in a book he made today, a la Curious George. He saw about 61.

And miles to go before we sleep...