Last night I spent a few hours writing, trying so hard to put together what I needed, or wanted to say about Mother's Day. The truth is it's impossible to encapsulate all that this day means to me, I end up writing in circles, when what I really need to say is that I love waking up each day to these two faces bouncing at the side of my bed. And I'm thankful for today, as I remain in my bed with my laptop, the NY Times, and Eleanor Roosevelt, while a pot of tea is steeping and some sort of breakfast is being created down the hall.
Bless all those who have mothered me over the years, I'm grateful to each and every one.
NorthSideFour: You're never too old, too wacky, too wild, to pick up a book and read to a child. Dr. Suess
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