My family woke me up at 10:30 this morning with flowers, lemon-filled doughnuts and handmade cards. Best mother’s day ever, frankly. For a gift, I asked that they super-clean the inside of our car. That has yet to happen.
Quinn’s card involved rocket ships. But it also says “I•Love•you” on the front, in Quinn’s adorable handwriting, including dots between words to denote spaces.
Sam wrote me a poem:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I love you so
Happy mother’s day too
Jack brought home a mother’s day poem that he wrote at school. The poem is so awesome that I am willing to overlook the fact that he mentioned our Nintendo 3DS before he mentioned me. (In his defense, the way the poem worksheet was structured, he didn’t have a “who” blank until the bottom.)
Aren’t they the cutest? I’m going to be honest here and say that I generally don’t read poetry, even if it is written by someone I like. I cannot stand poetry. I don’t know what it is, but the form just upsets me. The poet laureate of the United States could write a poem about ME and I would probably skim it. It is a testament to how much I kinda like these little kiddos that I will read their poetry. Still, they’re on thin ice. They’re lucky they brought doughnuts.
To all of you mothers out there, in whatever form you may come, I hope your day is lovely and involves doughnuts and readable kid-poetry.