Ingies n' Things

Or is it Mothers Day or Mothers’ Day?

Doesn’t matter. What does matter is this little menu put together by our very dear girl child. She gave it to me to fill out the night before so I could customize my breakfast. After I checked the boxes indicating my preferences she sent her father to the store to gather the requested ingredients. The next morning I had a very yummy breakfast in bed.

At our house you are our party planner, Roo. You love to celebrate and make things special. You are so sweet, so dear. It has been so amazing watching you become who you are. I’ll never forget carrying you into the house for the first time. It was Mother’s Day nine years ago. I was acutely aware of the fact that you made us a family of three and that we would forever be more than we had been just a couple of days prior. I set that blue bucket car seat down in the entry way of the house and looked down at your precious self in the light green outfit with the white collar you were wearing. I studied your tiny face, the one cheek so scraped up and red.  I wondered if the ear you had laid on for months and was folded in half would ever straighten itself out (it did). I remember being overwhelmed with love for you. I also remember looking at your daddy and thinking . . .

Holy crap! We have a baby here! Now what do we do?!?

Like all parents we have figured it out as we’ve traveled this road. It is a road I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. Thanks for making me a mama, Roo. Mostly, thank you for being you.

I love you,
Mama