High on fat

Mark in motionAnya slept pretty well last night and oddly enough, when we woke up I was ready to be awake, so no sleeping in. I changed Anya’s diaper and threw some clothes on her, gathering her up and taking her babbly self upstairs. Mark made waffles, which my cousin and I discovered is the consummate Mother’s Day breakfast. I had a long, hot shower and didn’t even think about water conservation. After a brief tussle with Lily about putting on shoes, we finally threw her in the car (barefoot, but with lovely blue nail polish on her toes) and drove into PB to see my Grandmother and then off to my moms for lunch. We arrived with satchels of cheese, fruit, bread and fixin’s for strawberry shortcake and set to work creating a meal. I am always amazed at how beautifully my husband can arrange food. Seriously, he has a talent.

We ate and the girls played and my mom showed me some photos of my grandfather visiting my grandmother’s grave for the first time that made me come thisclose to bawling. Wandering back into the living room found our men asleep, Mark smoosh faced with glasses askew and my step-father sitting upright in his chair, the crossword still clutched in his hand. Despite the fact that I am not a napper, I still felt a tiny bit jealous and did nothing to stop my daughters from climbing all over my husband and blowing raspberries at him. I took pictures too, but sadly they didn’t turn out. I’m a good wife like that.

We came home around 4:30 and put a sleeping Lily into her bed. Six hours later and she’s still there. Can I get a “holy son of a motherless goat”? It’s a beautiful thing.

And then my beautiful hunk of a man suggested I run off and pick up some Cold Stone. I keep dairy to a minimum due to the tiny girl having a bit of a sensitivity, but I went with the what-the-hell approach and went skipping off for a cold, sticky, mound of fabulous fat. I kinda feel high at the moment, all that sugar and cow milk coursing through me. Hopefully the girly is past her dairy thing, for goodness sake, she’s almost a year old, so just get over it already. It’s just that good.

And now I'm sitting heer blogging guilt free while my Mark holds a sleeping Anya, some of my favoite shows on the tube. It was a pretty sweet day. How was your Mother's Day?

PS This is my 600th post. Clearly I talk to much.