Happy Mother’s Daze

I had a pretty good Mother’s Day yesterday.

My MIL made her famous overnight coffee cake and whipped up a quiche, and spent brunch happily nagging Sunny, who doesn’t like either and who had spent Sunday School eating very specific parts of two slices of breakfast pizza and all of several cupcakes.

I stayed out of it and had a peaceful, surreal conversation with my husband and Jane about the origins of Canadian bacon and what it might be called in Canada.*

Then my MIL and I opened our presents.

Jane gave me one of her fabulous miniature scenes, this one of a library (it says Books because she couldn’t spell Library and couldn’t ask my husband or my MIL, because I was always there):

Library Mini

My other favorite gift, which accompanied a candle with “I love you, Mommy!” pasted on it, was a list of the Top Ten Reasons Why Sunny Loves Her Mom:

Mothers Day Countdown


10— I love my Mom because she reads me Batman.

9— I love my Mom because she helps me bake.

8— I love me Mom when hse makes me laugh by tikuling me.

7— I love my Mom because she taught me how to read.

6— I love to hear my Mom sing the ise bise spider.

5— I love my Mom because she finds time to play.

4— I know my Mom cares because she hugs me all the time.

3— I know my Mom is smart because she is a librareane.

2— I love me Mom because she works so hard at righting.

1— I love my Mom because she’s the BEST MOM EVER!

 I then had the opportunity to practice my Best Mom Ever skillz by watching Jane finish her Dies Drear project by copying five note cards that were “done already, Mom, sheesh!”  Apparently, when I insist on correct spelling and sentences with verbs, I’m taking over the entire assignment, which I always do with my unreasonable expectations of legibility.

Hey, I gotta be me.

But the tears dried, the note cards were affixed, and I was provisionally allowed to keep my Best Mom Ever cards and go to the Art Fair with everyone else, on the condition that I bring my checkbook.

Sunny and I examined all the booths and found some great stuff, including a fairy drawing for her room and a bottlecap Wonder Woman pendant on a bright red necklace, because she’s gotta be her,  too.

I found a place that sold blank books bound in recycled materials and fell in love with this:


It’s a 240-page journal covered in part of a deep orange, felted jacket that my camera app doesn’t do justice.  This is the kind of journal that you wait to use until you’ve bought a  new pen worthy of it, before realizing that you don’t have any words good enough to sully those beautiful blank pages.  But I bought it anyway.

There was a brief battle at the tie-dye booth over the suitability of a tube dress on an eleven-year old, followed by a compromise on a sleeveless dress that can double as a long skirt—often without warning, so a bit of emergency tailoring will be needed—and a visit to the frozen yogurt shop that soothed ragged tempers.

Once home, I took my traditional Mother’s Day nap, while Jane made pancakes very nearly all by herself for dinner.  After an hour or so of unconscious bliss on my part, Sunny woke me so I could read to her** until it was time to finish cooking the pancakes because Jane doubled the recipe eat.

After dinner, I read another chapter for Sunny and then placed a belated phone call and sang a special song at an answering machine, as is the tradition of my people.

Happy Mother’s Day to You!
Happy Mother’s Day to You!
I know I should have called earlier while you were awake this morning, but I’m a terrible daughter  and your cards should be arriving tomorrow and I’m Soooorrrryyyyy!
But Happy Mother’s Day to You!

The day had all the elements of motherhood: brunch foods, nagging, pride, dramatics, homework, hugs, singing, napping, shopping, a generous dollop of guilt,  and brief superhero sightings.

What more can I ask?




*Downith, can you offer some insight?

**The kid, who is obsessed with the works of E.B. White (sorry, Batman) and can’t read fast enough to suit her needs,  hit up each adult in the house twice that afternoon to read chapters of Trumpet of the Swan and told the rest of us all about what we’d missed.  In great detail.