Mother's Day

I want to tell you that I enjoyed breakfast in bed on my third mother's day. I had breakfast in bed. I now have breakfast on my bed. But it was indeed very entertaining: juggling a tray of lovely food while trying to feed two kids who had crawled up to witness the spectacle of mom eating while tucked-in. (They too wanted to drink orange juice from the glass and yogurt without bibs.)










Harry presented me with his preschool efforts - a plaster cast of his hand and a flower card, which I will cherish. Charlotte was the bearer of some wooden cookie cutters shaped like beautiful blossoms, just like her. I am so blessed.


We picnic every year and the weather was perfect for a trip back to the scene of our first mother's day, the U.S. National Arboretum, where we sat in the shade of a grove of State trees and nibbled on sandwiches and drank champagne. Perhaps gobbled is the right word because Harry was eager to go on a bear hunt. "Mommy!" he kept yelling "We've got trouble!" his new favorite line from Toy Story, which loosely translated means: get off your tush woman, we have to take a walk into the forest. Harry armed himself with a walking stick, looking very much like a young Gandalf.









Traipsing through the buttercups, we swishy-swashied our way through the long grass and hiked around the meadows well into nap time. It was the perfect afternoon spent with my most cherished possessions.



I hope it was a wonderful mother's day for all of our favorite moms.