Mother's Day

At the end of Mother's day, the grand total of two pictures on my camera roll: 2. Two. That's it.

Mother's Day is always a blend of my husband (last minute) trying to dream up of something special, with me saying "It's 100% okay to keep our normal", with one of my kids getting nervous and adding negative behaviors all because the day may be different and me always with some silent grief that sneaks up on me (even though it's been 26 Mother's Days since I lost my mom).  It's a day full of celebrating for some and I seem to be in the "Let's just skip to Monday" category. 

The first picture was this, which Anna-Kate took herself.  I was just doing what I do, making sourdough pancakes for my family in my kitchen that becomes our whole house's catchall.  Wearing my ratty old sweatshirt that I've had since high school.  Taken from the perspective of where she always stands.

I had no idea she was taking this and I sort of love this picture.  I ordinarily do not love any pictures of myself. There is no one more critical of myself than me. This picture, though, embodies what I hope to be from the lens of my child. The mama who always, always, always tries.  The results may be imperfect but the intent consistent. 

Here's the other pic of the day.  My trio with leftover take out pizza (thank you to my husband for a meal off from cooking), with that same shabby old sweatshirt from high school that I finally ditched. 

Motherhood is the least glamorous activity of my lifetime, but I'm praying it's the one that reaps the most fruits.