Numbers 1 through 6 popped out with MAYBE a day or two of mild grumpiness and MAYBE an itty bitty barely noticeable fever…
Tooth 7? A week and a half of grumpiness, no appetite, sleeplessness, and fevers on and off up to 101.6… and I couldn’t even see any signs of a tooth actually coming out until yesterday, which was the first day that she was back to her normal self.
I’m re-thinking 7 being my lucky number.
After we all slept in until 10:15 (what!) I awoke to this…
Daddy: “Old McDonald had a farm…”
Tatum: “Yai yai yoo”
Daddy: “And on that farm it was Mother’s Day…”
Tatum: “Yai yai yooo”
Daddy: “With a mom mom here and a mom mom there, here a mom, there a mom, everywhere a mom mom…”
Tatum: “Eyai eyai yooo”
Daddy: “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAAAYYY!!!”
After a wonderfully lazy morning we headed off to the Shoreline Beach Cafe for a delicious lunch followed by frolicking and lounging in the sand. Just what I wanted!
Not only did my little bug sleep in until 10:15 that morning, but she went to bed that night without a single complaint, and in less than 10 minutes.
Gosh I love her!
My in-laws soon came knocking on the door with wine and we went up to their house (a mere 15 steps away) and enjoyed a bottle (okay, maybe two) of yummy red wine and plenty of laughter.
I think I like Mother’s Day… ;)
PS: I know it’s Tuesday… and I’ve already forgotten things that I was going to write about my first Mother’s Day… they were probably really witty and just a little sappy but life goes on… literally, like today is almost over already, gotta go.
What age do my kids have to reach before I can stop crying every time I hear about some OTHER kid dying in a shooting or a bombing or getting murdered by some psycho?
Seriously, I’d like to know.
Related: Thanks, Internet, for showing that image of 8-year-old Martin Richard standing with spectators on the Boston Marathon route with Tamerlan Tsarnaev walking (and probably placing a bomb) right behind him. You’ve kicked off today’s crying jag.
let’s play a game… it’s called:
How Many Times Can You Drop Yogurt on the Carpet?
(although, you should probably just forfeit now because I’m already WAY ahead of you)