I woke up this morning to my husband snatching the babies and bringing them downstairs to let me sleep in a few hours. I slept for four uninterrupted hours this morning! And when I did wake, it was to a breakfast in bed of chocolate chip coconut pancakes.
I should draw comic versions of what I really want in life more often.
No but seriously, it got me thinking. This evening he cooked me and three of my girlfriends dinner and then put the babies down while we had a girls' night. Right before he took the boys upstairs I looked him straight in the eye and jokingly asked, "You know Mother's Day is on Sunday, right?" He replied that it should be the whole weekend, and it brought me right back to the idea that every day is Mother's Day, though not every day is celebrated.
Why is that?
Conversely every day is also Father's Day, and it reminded me to find little moments to celebrate both of us whenever we can. Before having children of my own, I always thought breakfast in bed and a foot rub was such an easy cop-out gift for a mom, but now I think it's the best present in the world. And I hope I can give Papa as wonderful of a break as he gave me.
Here's to parents, every. single. day.