Reaching hand in gardenThe badly taken photos were corrupting my layout on the blog. Or maybe the dinosaurs stepped on everything. Either way, I had to delete my photos of my spring garden.

Including the hand reaching up from the dirt.

Probably better I guess.

My mom and my daughter.

Who knew being a mom would be so much fun? If I’d known that motherhood was such a joy I wouldn’t have waited until my forties to be a mom.

My mother knew of course.

When I was twenty-five and married for two years, I remember her asking when she’d be a grandma. She smiled and said “hint hint.”

I blew her off as I was much too busy building a business and selling stuff.

She’d gently remind me that being a mom was one of the most rewarding experiences of her life.

Yea whatever.

When I was thirty-five and married for twelve years, my mother asked if it wasn’t time we had children now. She was still smiling but the ‘hint hint’ was replaced by a bit of concern over her brow, as if she knew something important and I just wasn’t getting it.

Was she confused about my choices? I had a wonderful career! Oops, my phone was ringing. Gotta go mom.

When I turned forty, I had a big blow out party with all my friends and family and I overheard my mom mention that ‘Only children were missing’.

Then a week later: “Do you think you’ll ever have children?

Thank you Mom for all your concern, I must rush off now………….
( humm…. Just what was that important meeting I went to?)

A few years later after having a clock that never ticked for me, an alarm went off in my head. It was so loud I woke up babbling to my husband of many years. “Children, it is time for children.”

Now, I’m forty-eight with an almost three and a half year old daughter. It has taken me over an hour to write this short blog post as she keeps coming to me, interrupting me. First, singing her ABC’s, then to point out a bug on the floor. Eeeeekkk she shrieked. Get the bug. Eeeeeeek.

Sensing my slight agitation that I was trying to write with an eeeking girl in the room she threw her arms around me and yelled in my ear. Happy Mothers Day Mom!

My mom tried to tell me.

Happy Mothers Day to you, Mom.

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Our Crabapple tree blooms each year on our anniversary. How wonderful is that? If I’m feeling stressed I just look outside.

Then go for a long walk.

It helps

Yesterday was my twenty-six wedding anniversary. It boggles my mind to think about being married for that many years, but I am.

Hubby and I got a babysitter, (Thank you Susan!) and went out to the Mona Lisa fondue restaurant for dinner. It is a wonderfully romantic place where you eat four courses and drink lots of wine.

Years ago I was a pretty strict vegetarian. And a chocoholic. I would stick my nose up at meats and gobble chocolate until every last drop of sauce was licked from the plate.

Maybe it is age or wisdom or a mellowing of attachment to beliefs, but now I’ll eat an occasionally piece of meat and leave chocolate on the plate.

Last night I enjoyed the dinner. Fish, chicken, meats and sausage were all grilled and enjoyed with dipping sauces. I blessed the food and didn’t feel guilty about eating meat. I still believe that for the most part we should honor animals, and for our health eat less meat. But I don’t have to be evangelistic whipping myself into a frenzy and glaring at meat eaters.

And I’m happy to say that I also enjoyed some lovely milk chocolate dipping sauce, but I wasn’t compelled to eat more than a few bites.

It is a wonderful feeling to let go of addiction.