I didn’t know how this Mother’s Day would be celebrated. In France, they don’t celebrate it on the same day, and Patrick is out of town, so he can’t rally the troops. So, I woke up with sounds of scurrying feet, then the clanking of pans. A half hour later, my sweet children came into my bedroom with a breakfast in bed tray. A droopy but fragrant rose adorned one corner, a glass of water WITH ice cubes (a rarity around here), the other. On the plate was an orange, a piece of toast, three strawberries and an omelet!
“I didn’t know I could make an omelet,” Sophie said, smiling. “But I found a recipe and followed it. I worried it wasn’t all the way cooked. Does it taste good, Mommy?”
I broke off a piece with my fork and tasted it. Delicious! Her eyes smiled when I told her. She possessed that fragile, beautiful knowing that sometimes accompanies pre-adolescence. I hope she captures and inhabits that confidence.
Aidan made me a “Happy Mother’s Day!!! Love, Aidan” card out of Legos! An amazing feat! A few days ago, he and the other two constructed a home out of Legos, complete with microwave and weapons (in case an invader came, I guess).
Julia created a box out of paper. “I used your tape, Mommy,” she said. And DID she! But it was an amazing creation, decorated with her pictures and a card that simply said, “I love you Mommy.”
I am utterly blessed with three beautiful, amazing, kind children.
And a husband who deeply loves me and cheerleads me.
And an extended family back home in Washington who misses and loves me.
And a mom who gave me life and taught me how to garden and cook.
Thank You Jesus.