As Father’s Day quickly approaches, I recall I write a blog about mom-ing that I haven’t updated in since Mother’s Day.
And not even Mother’s Day this year.
May 10, technically, yes. I did bring over a throwback post from my old blog about Mother’s Day, but I don’t think that counts.
So here’s an it’s-almost-Father’s-Day update on Mother’s Day.
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My husband woke up with the baby, sorry, toddler, so I could sleep in Mother’s Day. Unfortunately, my internal clock wakes me up at 7 a.m. on weekends whether or not I need to wake up at 7 a.m. or could sleep as long as I wanted.
My internal clock wakes me up at 5:20 a.m. weekdays, but that’s another blog post.
I sleepily descended the stairs to the smell of coffee and a squawking baby, sorry, toddler.
My husband greeted me, asking if I’d like a cup of coffee.
Yes, yes, of course, I would like a cup of coffee. It’s 80 percent of the liquid in my body. Who needs blood? I have caffeine.
He gave me just the best cup of coffee.
I cackled this made me so happy.
Matt sent me this photo in April of our grumpy baby, sorry, toddler not getting his way. This kid makes some pretty good fuss faces.
Of course, we also went to brunch because it was Mother’s Day, and that’s what you do.
And then, I got on a plane and flew to Seattle for a work trip, which reaffirmed my belief that I belong in the Pacific Northwest with mountains and ocean and rain and that sunset. (Also, did you know that wing seats are super bumpy because THEY ARE.)
While mommy worked in Seattle and daddy worked in Wichita, baby, sorry, toddler played with grandma and grandpa.
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Now that my husband has won Mother’s Day, I obviously have to win Father’s Day. He’s so good at giving presents. I fully expect a coffee cup with a baby picture and witty saying every year for the rest of my life.
