Mothers Day

Last Sunday was Mothers Day, a special day that I'm still kind of amazed that I qualify to celebrate. Rosebud is nothing short of miraculous and I am overjoyed to be her mother. Early Sunday morning she crawled into bed with us and cuddled up with me for a long sleep-in. The child is human Sominex, to which Papa M can attest. Hours later, I awoke face to face with my hazel-eyed wonder smiling at me. "Do you know what day this is?" Rosebud asked me. I played along, "No, what day is it?" She poked her finger right up her nose, still smiling, and announced happily, "It's Mothers Day!" She made my day. Papa M made my breakfast. I got the Queen treatment, which was very fun.

We visited my mom Amzing Grace for awhile later. AG is a dear, dear person, closer to me than I ever imagined. She does not, however, care to have her photo published, so I'm holding out here.

That evening I enjoyed the second annual Mothers Day Beer Gathering with my true blue fellow hipmamas Beth, Andrea and Julia. We are extended family and mighty community. Between the four of us we have made six gorgeous children. Within we four are two social workers, one nurse, one archivist, four musicians, three writers, four partners of musicians, two gardeners, and four close friends. We met at Mickey's outdoor patio and soaked in the gentle springtime evening air and a few pitchers of delicious beer. Historically, we've been the Sierra Nevada Salon, but our favorite libation wasn't available. We enjoyed the Cream City Pale Ale instead, which proved to be a very flavorful, satisfying pint. (I would like to point out that the small and glassy appearance of my eyes in the Mama photo is due to more to allergy season than Pale Ale.)

If anyone ever tells you in a threatening, ominous way that motherhood, or parenthood will "change everything" in that robbing-you-of-your-life way, deck 'em.