Friday, May 13, 2011

Mother's Day : Year One

I suppose if you want to be technical about it - I was a mother last Mother's Day. I was pregnant and incredibly happy about it, this was - of course- before my body decided by some force of nature that I was never going to have enough water. So it needed to store copious amounts of it in my legs, feet and hands. Had you poked me with a needle I would have spewed enough water to drown the Titanic again.

Anyway, I wasn't expecting much. Mostly because Alfred and I don't really feel the need to celebrate holiday's with gifts. Don't get me wrong, I love tearing into a gift with the fervor of a 6 year old, but we figure using a holiday as an excuse to get something we either can't afford or can afford at any time is silly. If we can't afford it outright, that's a discussion for both of us - a look at our finances, what we'd be giving up, what we'd be gaining - basically, we become responsible adults and the other figures out what you're buying anyway.

Yuck.

And if it's something we can afford, we just get it. Who cares if it's Valentine's Day or President's Day or Frog Jumping Day, if we want it why wait? We are American's after all, and when we want it - we want it now.

Also, it makes for an incredibly pleasant surprise when we do happen to get the other something. Which is why when I walked in the house from my mother-in-laws on Mother's Day I was pleasantly surprised with an awesomely clean house - a gift from my husband. Which, for the record, is quite possibly the best gift EVER. I love it when he surprises me with no dishes, no laundry and the smell of bleach wafting through the house.

ahhhhh.

But this year was a little different. Because this year, I got a gift from someone I've just recently come to know to someone else, who I thought I'd never be,  for a holiday I never fully appreciated until this year.

I got a gift from my daughter to her mother. It was, in a word, perfect.

The husband claims he had nothing to do with it. That it was all Lillie. And when I asked him how she managed to get up on the counter seeing as she's not even crawling - his response was perfect, as well.
"She's a badass."

Touche, husband, Touche.