WHAT I REALLY WANT FOR MOTHER'S DAY

OK, listen up. I'm going to be very frank here.

I want a whole bunch of stuff for Mother's Day and I want it in this order.

First, I want to sleep in and wake up when I feel like it. Just once. Just for Mother's Day. Just please.

Then, I want to use the bathroom by myself, and get in the shower and be clean. I want to emerge when I feel like it. Not because anyone has pooped or anyone is crying or anyone can't find their blue caterpillar toy.

Third, I do not want my kids to be sick. Ever again. But if we could start with not being sick on Mother's Day, we'll go with that.

Fourth, I want $100 and a solo trip to Barnes & Noble. Solo. This is non-negotiable. I want everyone to understand that Barnes & Noble is situated in the mall. If I wander from book heaven into the mall and come back with an ice cream, or a tank top, or a pair of aqua loafers, but none of it is for you, this is fine. Nobody panic. I'm still Mom and I still love you.

Please allot approximately four hours for these tasks. During this time, I do not want to hear ANY WHINING AT ALL. And no crying. And please for the love of humanity, nobody fall down and get hurt. Please send your requests for food, drinks, or that toy that sister has, straight to Daddy. He will be happy to assist you.

After these terms have been met, I want you, my dear children, to know that I am totally grateful. I love you LIKE CRAZY and would sever my own appendages, run into a burning house, or apprehend a team of schoolyard bullies to keep you safe, make you happy, and ensure we have many, many more Mother's Days to spend together. I count my children as my greatest blessings and would never want to live a day without them.

But I think four hours is reasonable.

Songs about love

Right now, Sam is playing a song on the piano he says is called " I Love You, but Some People Don't Love You, but They Might Love You Anyway." It sounds like chaos.

...blood

Sister is turning into a champion walker. I can't think of when I've last seen her crawl. She toddles around the house at a slow pace, often with her left hand holding up her shirt and her right hand petting her tummy.

She sometimes loses her balance, spins 180 degrees, and falls onto her back. She wails. 

A few days ago, she was standing near the toy bench in the living room and took a tumble. She wasn't prepared (usually the case), and she bit her tongue on impact. Oh boy did it bleed! Poor thing...she cried and cried. 

As I was dabbing the blood from her mouth with a bit of paper towel, Sam came into the kitchen to observe. He saw the blood, looked shocked and grew pale, and ran away. A few seconds later he came creeping back, and he said softly: "Mama, did sister crack her head open?"

BA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!

That's what we always warn Sam about when he's doing something dangerous. "Don't jump on the couch! You'll fall and crack your head open!" He was sure that's what he was witnessing!