n a day like today, we couldn't resist packing up a blanket and our favorite café take-out for a quiet picnic in the park. It felt amazing to doze off with the warm sun on my very white arms. Today, as I helped the primary kids with a cutesy craft to present their mothers, I couldn't resist feeling nostalgic about being that small and perfect and using my chubby little hands to cut, paste, and color something imperfect for my mom who would blush and brighten and love it so. I still love that when I give my mother a gift she fusses and fidgets with the wrapping for several minutes as if it were too precious to piece apart. Then she nearly faints when she finally peers inside. Every time. It doesn't matter what it is. I could give my mom socks and she would cry with appreciation as if she were the luckiest mom in the world, to have just received socks from her baby. I've never given her socks, but I know if I did she would love them just as much. She's pretty amazing that way. Recently she's been engaged to a certain Mr. Ed whom we love and who, more importantly, loves my mom. It's so very sweet to see her twitterpated. Almost as sweet as her golden ringlets in this 2nd grade photo. Heaven help me.
parents are so proud, and rightly so. After he was born, BD wouldn't stop talking about him for days. And his aunt (maybe me?) can't stop smelling his head. Heaven help me.