I had my bitch on for little while there and deleted what I wrote. See, I am a petulant child. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where my devil babies get it! Pray for poor Mr. Smith.
I have been holding on to a couple of funny stories. I will figure out a way to tell these and incorporate some recipes.
In the meantime, here are some photos from Mother's Day.
I am not, in general, a big fan of these days (Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day). I guess the notion of waiting for one particular day to appreciate the people you should appreciate every single day bugs me.
On Sunday, I stood on a secluded beach at low tide and watched my little family. I watched my children dart in and out of the water like little birds. I watched as they got more and more soaked and more and more naked. I watched Mr. Smith carry our son out into the surf. I watched as our brave little boy begged his father not to go back to shore, but keep going further into the surf.
That kind of joy, that kind of abandon, that kind of freedom to scream and laugh and play, it made my heart swell and tears sting my eyes.
This is my life now. And I could not be more thankful...every single day.
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