Being a mother is my favorite. Last night, Young Master poops in the bathtub, which we drain and are scrubbing out while he commences to pee on his bed. Scoop children back into tub, start a load of laundry, Young Miss pours half a bottle of soap into the bathwater. Dig two children out of two feet of suds, wipe soap out of eyes amidst weeping and wailing, remember what necessitated a bath in the first place, and scrub modeling clay out of Young Miss's bangs while she screams about wanting to do it all by herself.
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Being a mother is my favorite. Mother's Day, I am served breakfast in bed, and showered in receipts representing the gifts that have not yet arrived in the mail (including this book, yippity yee!) On my breakfast tray is one of the most breath-stealing, original flower arrangements I have ever seen. My Man, for all his big hands, calloused and stained with axle grease, dirt under the nails, and hardened cement in the grooves of his wedding ring, sure does beautiful things with flowers. Then Master and Miss come in, climb up beside me, wiggle and piggle, spill a bit of granola, jostle my floral arrangement, distributing hugs and kisses in abundance. My joy is complete.
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excited to see you blogging again. I too have just recently updated over my long time off the computer. hope you are doing well. your kids are growing up nicely.
ReplyDeleteSuch delightful writing....and I love the truck picture and the bed cuddle picture! :) Have a good day beautiful!
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