You want to know what Mother’s Day is?

First what its not.,It is not the day dreamed up by Hallmark or some such capitalist that wants to make a buck making people feel guilty about not hanging out with their moms enough.  It is not a Jane Seymour designed piece of jewelry that daddy can’t REALLY afford, but feels he has to buy.  Its not even breakfast in bed, consisting of overbrowned  toast, buttercups from the yard and tepid orange juice — served up by preschoolers and their tween siblings…


No, Mother’s Day is so much more.  Mother’s Day is seeing the car lights shining on the yard five minutes before curfew.  Mother’s Day is seeing your granddaughter hand her daddy a Captain America Doll that she bought him for his 31st. birthday, holding your grandson’s hand as he walks across the street.  Mother’s Day is hearing ” Hola, what’s up” when your youngest calls.  Mother’s Day is following behind your oldest as she pulls her two babies in a wagon, and having her turn to you and say , “mom, Ive waited to be able to do this, put my kids in  a wagon and pull them through the flower market…”  Mother’s Day is watching them handed their college Diploma — and seeing those smiles.  Holding them steady as they labor with the birth of their own children, sitting down at a restaurant and watching them enjoy a meal.  Mother’s Day is the look your husband gives you when he watches you with your grandchild, or with a gift you’ve just made one of your children.  Mother’s Day is wiping fevered foreheads, wrapping sprained ankles, hooking up the nebulizer.  Mother’s Day is every moment that you are blessed enough to have your child with you, either in your arms, or just in your heart when they are miles away. 


This child of mine

Every now and then you get a glimpse of the person inside the person who is your child.  Today we gathered for Easter.  All of my kids and all of their kids.  One almost wife, one husband, just one husband missing.  it was a lot of people, for sure.


After breakfast and the Easter baskets and the egg hunt i wanted a picture of all the grandkids ( 4) with my husband and me.  On the couch.  In the sunroom.  Now, my grandchildren are 4,3,2 and 1 and getting all four of them to do anything at the same time, is well, you know. tough. seriously tough.  Two of my kids kind of ignored the request, the husband wandered into the other room, and I sat on the couch with the two oldest, getting ready for a major “poor me, I cant get my babies on my lap for a picture” moment.  My youngest daughter, who puts on this tough girl facade, who pretends to not really give a darn about my little requests….stepped up .  “alright everyone on the couch.” she gathered her dad, the other two kids, the other parents so they could cheer on the picture session and grabbed one of the cameras. 

My heart melted.  Seemingly tiny little thing I know, but she looked at me and knew that I needed that picture.  And she made it happen.  Thanks punk.  Dont think I didnt notice.

it sounded like a great idea

Granddaughter Number 1 was spending the night last night.  She had done this countless times since she was a baby.  My son is pretty much raising her himself, her mom having gone in and out of the picture more times than most people paint their nails, but at any rate our girl has her own room at our house, her own potty, massive amounts of toys and books. you get the picture.

so last night she was spending the night.  I thought, hey shes 4 now, lets jazz it up.  Lets have a “camp out” in the family room.  She was all for it.  we changed into jammies, pushed the “princess barbie room” out of the way ( dont ask) , lay blankets and pillows and purple baby and naked barbie and reindeer holding a ice cream cone  on the floor.  The  two ponies rested on barbie;s canopy.  We settled in for a night of “watching  tv all night long.”

“dont touch me, Im making a line”

“grammy I need a drink”

“I spilled on my nighty”


“lets bounce”

“This blanket has holes” ( crochetted afghan)

“Whats that smell?”

“can I lay my head on your lap?” ( Ahh, grammy moment)

“Im hungry.” ( Cereal at 12:00 am)

“I want to watch Minnies bowtique”

“I dont have to go potty”

“grammy, Im tired, you better put me to bed”

so we stumbled up the stairs way after midnight, me marveling at the fact that she had lasted that long AWAKE.  Placed her in her crib ( I know, way too old for a crib but we havent put a toddler bed up yet and she humors us …), kissed her head, told her I love her and went to my own warm bed.


“Grammy, you left the door open”

“Grammy, I peed my bed”

whew.  Im exhausted.  next time, into bed at 9.


suck it up.


Jackson is sick.  Jackson is my grandson, almost two years old.   the most pleasant, adorable little guy you could ever meet.  but right now he is sick.  pneumonia, something viral, croupy and droopy, sick.  Its Christmas break so poppop and I had him here the day after Christmas so his mommy  and daddy could go to work.that lasted about 4 hours, clear up until the doctor told me to take him into the hospital for a chest x-ray” right now”.  i called my daughter and she met us in the parking lot and we took jax to the hospital.  Where he was the best boy ever.  pneumonia does that to you, knocks you on your ass to the  point where, even if youre almost two you lay on the table and let them take pictures of your chest.  poor guy, I almost wanted him to put up a fuss.  then my daughter contacted the pulmnologist the doctor has suggested we visit, and they set us up for an 8:00 am appt. the next day.  Daddy “had to work” so mommy, pop and I left the house at the ungodly hour of 7:30 AM with Jax, to go back to the hospital to see this pulmnologist.  Many head nods, computer inputs and questions later they came up with — well pretty much nothing.  The xrays showed a triangular mess in his lung that they think is viral.  his symptoms indicate reflux or maybe allergies… they are going to test him for cystic fibrosis WHICH HE DOES NOT HAVE and did a lot of blood work.  jax got mcnuggets and a milkshake out of the deal, because he was such a good boy. we came back to our house where he and his mommy hung out for a while.  Daddy was a couple hours away, freaking out about cystic fibrosis, so she stayed with us for support and a little relief.

So that brings us to today.  I had to go into work.  pop had to chop and split wood.  Daddy was on duty because daughter does not want to lose her job…About a half hour into the morning i got a text”  Jax is upset, can you call and make sure they are ok? ”   in the most supportive message I could get my fingers to type i said “yes I will call, but he is his father he needs to suck it up and figure out what to do”  Then I called.  Phone rang 3 or 4 times. then “Hello grammy”. Jax answered the phone, proceeded to tell me many things in the language that only he understands and then put his daddy on the phone.  daddy sounded fine, said they were going to hang out.

Hhmmm.  Sounds like mommy needs to suck it up.  It is hard to believe that someone else can care for your baby  .  Relax mommy, daddy got it.