The Sweetest May

This is the sweetest month. Flowers, bees, late sunsets, herbs on the patio, strawberry pies (from here), twinkle lights in the neighbor’s yard… it’s all so wonderful. I cannot wait for the cicadas and fireflies.

This was my third mother’s day as a mom. I have to say, I don’t really remember the last two. I know that’s awful, but where those days should be in my mind there are only two big, empty spaces. I can, however, remember every detail of the last purchasing meeting I went to. I can remember, in detail, what my high school boyfriend said when he broke up with me. I can remember account numbers, budget totals, and the date of the last time I cleaned the floors in my house. I can remember Jane’s first word (duck) and the first time she walked (at 18 months in our temporary apartment on a cold fall night).

But for some reason I’ve lost every detail of the last two mother’s days. The first one was right after I’d given birth. I didn’t get a card. Or flowers. That much I remember. Last year, I can’t remember at all.

I suspect there’s only so much room in my brain. And I’d like to think that I’ve filled up all those spaces with other more important memories than a commercial holiday packed with Jared commercials. Am I the only one who wants to kick a puppy every time I see one of those chocolate diamond commercials? Or the commercials that feature a necklace with what can only be described as a diamond shard… not even a chip… in the center? Seriously men. Just have your children draw your wife a picture and let her sleep in. No one wants a diamond shard.

I say all that to end up at this point: this was a great Mother’s Day. This one I will remember. I’ll remember because it was the first time Jane did both #1 and #2 in her potty. I’ll remember the way she peered at her poop suspiciously (a sight previously unseen in her entire life because they’re usually safely contained in her diaper). She looked at it, looked at me, looked at it, all the while her forehead was creased in a monstrous frown. She drew up her hands and yelled, “NO TOUCH! It’s yucky!”  I will remember because I really want to. These are things I do not want to forget.

Thank goodness for pictures. Thank goodness for a blog.

 

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