Before any of the kids were up on Mother's Day, I was awoken to the sound of my husband puking his guts out.
Happy Mother's Day to me.
But you know what? The day turned out to be a perfect Mother's Day - for me, not for Daniel, poor guy. Why was it perfect? Because it was a day like any other day. I fed the kids breakfast. I cared for them all morning. I ate lunch with them. I cared for them all afternoon. I made them dinner. We ate dinner together. We played together all evening. I put them to bed. Unfortunately because of Daddy's stomach virus, we didn't get to go to church.
The truth is, every day for me is mother's day. I get the rare privelege of being with my four precious children every single day, all day long. I've taught them all to read. I've taught them how to work long division, how to read music, how to build an electromagnet, how to grow radishes, type without looking at their hands, and find their way around using a map. Hopefully I've taught them much more than that. Hopefully I've taught them how to love each other well, how to argue well, and how to live well. Hopefully.
So on this Mother's Day, while Daniel stayed close to the bathroom, my kids and I took the scooter to KFC for chicken and ice cream.
And when we got back, someone had made his way, very slowly I'm sure, to the flower vendor and back. He's a great guy, that Daniel Rupp!