Oh Happy (Mother’s) Day.

Oh happy day, indeed.

In the 23 months since I first began keeping this “baby book”, I have worked towards defining what it means to be a mother.

From scary moments to celebration,

dance parties to dress-up dates,

these small snapshots fit together to paint a cubist picture of a concept that is so precious,

so dynamic,

so colorful

that it is impossible to put into plain words.

But, this morning, on mother’s day, I got a bit closer;

You see, as we sat and ate breakfast

on our bouquet-covered table,

my husband asked my daughter what her mommy means to her.

“What does mommy cook for you?” he asked.

“Pizza. And birthday cake. And quesadilla!” exclaimed my daughter.

“And what does mommy do with you?”

“She plays.”

“What does she play?” he continued.

“She plays jungle.”

And that was that. In my daughter’s own words, what it means to be a mother. She was able to,

with her limited vocabulary,

define what “mommy” truly means.

And what that means to me I may never be able to express…

Except that it means everything.

 

“Don’t dream it…”

Tonight, after a light dinner and cool walk, I watched my daughter as she saw the Intro to Rocky Horror for the first time…

as she studied the lips and whispered, “Wow!”

and then stuck a slice of cheese on her head, as a hat,

and then sang along (she learned the words to the chorus after her first listen)

and then asked for more.

And as I watched, I thought,

That’s my kid!

That’s my kid, alright!

And to that I say, Don’t Dream it, Be it,

baby. And don’t you ever forget it.

(Cheese chapeau and all.)

Oh, you know.

Just some Tuesday morning loungewear.

 

Life, according to baby.

Looks like someone thinks that spring has sprung…

(and we all know how important it is to be properly accessorized.)

Chag Purim!

Today, I wore my wedding dress in front of the entire school,

the baby went grocery shopping in a tutu,

and we ate donuts for a mid-morning snack,

as we took the “Eat, Drink and Be Merry” spirit of Purim and ran with it.

When I dressed as Queen Esther two Purims ago with a “Queen In Training” sign displayed on my big belly,

little did I know how true those words would become.

All aboard for Shushan!

(and bottoms up!)

 

So, this happened today. (!!!!)

Now this is a milestone that I can get behind.

And it is also further proof of that whole apple and tree thing I’ve heard so much about.

Which reminds me. I have a story to share with you. And I’d totally tell it to you now,

but

there are some fierce dress-up clothes that are just a-callin’ my name.

So, tomorrow.

I promise.

But, in the meantime, slap on a pair of sparkly stilettos and show this Thursday what you’re made of.

I know I will.

Where ma girls at?

The greatest things.

Today, I experienced two of the greatest things.

First, I saw this:

(image via)

and it was like all of the stars aligned into the world’s most extraordinary moment. Nothing so perfect could actually exist, surely.

My mom and I watched the Les Miz Flash Mob from last night’s episode of “It’s a Brad Brad World” with our mouths agape, eyes wet with tears and chills running up and down our arms. Actual goosebumps. The best thing I’ve ever seen.

And I could not stop saying so. And then I started plotting how to get Gary to leave Brad for me, so that maybe, just maybe, in 10 years, we would be sitting outside at our Anniversary party, and I’d be waiting for his dry, pithy toast, when, out of nowhere, the piano intro to “La Vie Bohemme” would come cascading from between the trees, as my slew of most talented friends would make their way to the stage…

And then, this happened:

So, yeah, he’s totally mine.

And, as a side note to my current husband: If you ever want to know what my most perfect birthday present ever would be

see above.

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28. Money

A 7-year-old bottle of Essie Nailpolish

in Castaway.

purchased at the fabulous El Corte Ingles. In Barcelona. With Euros. European Monday.

And, seven years later,  when I catch a glimpse of this color on my toes

I am brought back to Placa Catalunya,

to the Barca Spring,

walking in my Espadrilles

and becoming a big girl.

And, seven years later, the polish still works. And looks as good as ever.

So, yeah, that’s just MONEY.

#febphotoaday/23

23. Your Shoes

So, I was all prepared to use this photo:

Because a) these were actually the shoes I wore this morning as we took a sunny stroll around the neighborhood and

b) I was actually outside, walking.

I know.

My sneakersliterallyhad dust on them.

But, then, my daughter walked into my closet and said, “Ooooh, mommy shoes. Pretty.”

She’s got killer timing, no?

So, I felt obligated to show you what she thought I should post.

And those sparkly jellies in the top spot? They were my other new somethings, the ones I wore after I became a Mrs, and needed to get down in some more practical boogie shoes. And for me, bedazzled=practical.

So, I kind of cheated today, didn’t I?
So what. Sue me.

(Just don’t take my shoes.)

I mean…

Not only does this girlie girl insist upon accessorizing,

but she even chose to do so with feathers.

She’s a keeper, she is.