So it's Mother's Day. Since I became a mother, I've struggled with the guilty feeling that the perfect Mother's Day gift would really be a day all by myself. And then I find myself feeling irritated that it's just a typical day with extra food, and the kids are still whiny and require a lot of attention. Why did I expect more?
So this year I tried to have lower expectation. Be more zen about it, embrace the craziness, just focus on how lucky we are. And I was still irritated, they were still whiny, alternating with sweet and delightful, and I'm exhausted like usual.
But I know I'm lucky.
Bitty Girl ate fried chicken, bacon, and deep fried french toast. Oh, and some strawberries. All delicious, by the way. Our arteries will thank us later.
Happy Chicken Leg Day, I mean, Mother's Day!
Ok, maybe I should explain that we ate brunch at a family-owned restaurant near the in-laws, where P. grew up. It's serious food--deep fried, lots of meat and lots of mayo. It used to be just a bar, and they had this annual Christmas Eve open house where they served free food as a way for saying thank you to the customers. A few years ago they opened a restaurant, gave up the Christmas Eve thing, but still make a heck of a brunch. Think bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, fried chicken (see photo), deep fried french toast, and a dessert counter piled with brownies, cheesecake, and cookies. Sigh... I think I gained five pounds just writing that sentence.
Then the cousins did a little snuggling. Yes, they're watching tv, but they really did play well together. And we felt lucky to be with family.
So in spite of the whining and the constant face wiping and perma-exhaustion, I'm thankful. My babies are healthy and we have everything we need--wonderful family, jobs, good health, good friends, and deep fried french toast. Yum.
Happy Mother's Day!