On Mother's Day: Great cards from Voice and Smiles. Voice actually wrote me a card every day during the preceding week, which is more protestations of love than I have ever received from her, and does the predictable thing of turning me into a ball of weepiness. Those cards contain all the praise I want ("I love your gardening," "Thank-you for the pasta workshop. I loved cutting the pasta," "I really liked going to the bluegrass festival with you" "Mommy, I love you here, I love you there, I love you everywhere!"). So much recognition I am afraid: what's making her think all this good stuff?? Is she OK??
Also on Mother's Day, after dropping them off with their father, the retired-nun-neighbor asking over the fence "Well, did you get to see your children at all today?" That too pretty much reduced me to a ball of weepiness.
Moving on: yesterday, the day after mother's day, Voice told me she'd put a special stuffy, one I gave her, in her back pack because she'd been missing me. While we were busy doing homework in the dining room the puppy got into her backpack in the hall, and ate the body of the toy, leaving only its head (what is the word for the opposite of decapitation?).
Voice was reduced to a ball of weepiness.
I am no seamstress, but I like solving problems. Out of the remnants of the Sock Puppet Birthday Party in January, I made a new bunny body (tail and all). Voice deems it "lumpy, but even better than the real one because YOU made it, Mommy."
And I weep again.