Mother's Day 2013

Julie's morning began when she heard Joe climbing the stairs.  (Joe climbs the stairs now without the feet-together pause on each tread, while Clara does not, so one can tell which of them is climbing the steps or, at least, which of them is in the lead.)  He climbed up into Ted's empty side of the bed with Neaky, Teddy, and Beary.  Clara wasn't far behind him with Minnie, Daisy, and Bubba.  They settled themselves in, but Joe didn't stay long.  (He likes to help Ted make breakfast.)  Birdie was without her pajama pants and the morning was a little chilly, and, she likes to burrow, so for all kinds of reasons probably, Clara curled herself into a ball by Julie's side underneath her arm and soon enough, she was softly snoring.  One of Rainer Maria Rilke's Sonnets to Orpheus begins, "And it was almost a girl who, stepping from/this single harmony of song and lyre, /appeared to me through her diaphanous form /and made herself a bed inside my ear. /And slept in me."  That's what Julie was thinking of this morning when Clara was curled up next to her.

April 27, 2010

Enough highbrow schmaltz!

Julie was toasted with "Happy Mother's Day!" over a breakfast of french toast with berries, bacon, and sweet tea, and given new throw pillows and rugs for the porch from Ted.  Joe and Clara had each made Julie an art project at school which she had found taped to their cubbies at pick-up on Friday, and opened that night.  Joe's was bouquet in a vase, of which the stems of the flowers were the fingers of his handprint.  On the vase he'd finished the phrase "I love my Mommy because. . ." with "she takes me to plays," in his very own handwriting.  Clara had painted a picture.  She said it was eyes with sunglasses.  On the back, her teachers had pasted  picture of her making it, with a snippet of how she responded to what must have been the question, "Why do you love your Mommy?": "Her puts bows in my hair and eats potatoes."  (Julie is ever so glad that Clara's current confusion over gendered pronouns was captured because it an excellent marker of these days.)  Keen observers will note that Clara also reported that Julie's favorite food was potatoes on the Mad Libs-esque Mother's Day card that accompanied the painting.

After Julie had read the bambini stories tonight, Joe said that she wished every day was Mother's Day.  But like Ted said this morning, every day is, we just celebrate it once a year.

Joe and Clara, the two of you are my heart.  It's the joy and privilege of my life to be your mother.  (I didn't say the schmaltz was over, just the highbrow schmaltz!)