Mother May I?

We started our Mother's Day picnic tradition when Harry was born. He was but a wee, skinny little one (pictured right-- you too will agree that even with a buttercup tucked behind his ear, he looked two servings short of a meal. A stunning 'then and now').

But we had a lovely afternoon two years ago and have continued to picnic. This year, we tried the zoo, camping on the lawn just outside the Great Ape House. And it was, without a doubt, the best afternoon I can remember. I could attribute it to the half bottle of champagne I drank in the shade of a blossoming tree or the sublime weather....but really, it was the fact that Harry and Charlotte had so much fun, and us watching them. She rolled and rolled and rolled on the picnic blanket, trying to snatch a turkey on rye out of Harry's paws. Harry, on the other hand, ran around on the grass, trying his best to enter forbidden zoo enclosures, all the while shooting us that 'watch me do something naughty' grin. Fortunately we were nowhere near the polar bear den.

We were given two big treats, the first when the orangutans swung overhead (nearly, literally overhead) on the zoo's O-line...what a show. I swear they were eyeing us...'look at those feebs with their lunch...are we close enough to huck poop?' Later, a mama and papa mallard paid our picnic blanket a visit, eating pita chips straight out of Harry's hand. Even he was shocked.


Harry, today a much more robust version than the baby I brought to my first mother's day picnic, has absolutely no shame when it comes to food. While he's willing to share with the birds, he too is a skilled moocher, roaming over to neighboring picnickers to score some grapes. No, he doesn't outstretch a hand. He simply opens his mouth with the unspoken directive 'please deposit food within.'

It was a great, great day, all thanks to my incredible husband, who gave me the best gift (which ranks somewhere after the kids, but definitely before any piece of bling).....he secretly formatted, printed and bound my blog...presented over breakfast with a bouquet of flowers. It may be a mixed media message to print a blog, but what an incredible treat for me, the still unpublished would-be author. Mostly, it drove home how special it will be for the kids to one day have a record of their lives. It made me cry, right there over my goat cheese omelet.