Happy Mothers' Day

Happy Mothers' Day everyone! It's hard to know what really to say today. We planted our Mothers' Day flowers last week, so all we have left to celebrate with is our Mothers' Day guacamole & sangria. Most anything trite I could say about the day would sound just like that. So, instead I'll write about Caroline again.

It was time for dinner, also known as Caroline's messiest meal of the day. Dinner is immediately followed by bathtime, so anything messy is ok by me at this time of day only. I decided to make her a peanut butter & jelly sandwich (who knew that PB&J could be messy?), when she started the predictable tugs of my leg. I turned to say 'Would you like me to make you a sandwich?', when instantly into my head popped the words that followed, '*Poof!* You're a sandwich!'

Suddenly, a joke my Mother once told me ad nauseum became the funniest one I'd ever heard. I giggled and reflected yet again on all that I've learned in the past 14 months - all the times I've said to myself 'How do you think she handled this?' or 'Man, I can't believe I put her through that.' It's only since I've had Caroline that I finally think I have the smallest understanding of her sense of humor.

Later, after the craziness of this past week, I was trying to figure out the most appropriate activity for Mothers' Day. Clay is post-call today, his only day off between last Sunday and next Sunday. Surely, he will be tired. There's laundry and cleaning to be done too- and that's a priority given the condition of the apartment. But the most ideal thing for me to do today is one thing -nothing.

'I would relax... I would sit on my [rear end] all day... I would do nothing.' - Office Space

Now I know why my Mom always referred to that as 'having a party.'

All in a rush, it was then that I realized...

I am living with Al Gore.

It started out harmless enough. One day she wanted to turn off the lights. We thought it was a great. Almost convinced we had discovered it ourselves, it was a ingenious distraction that eased the long, dreaded walk to night-night.

Next, it was organic mac-n-cheese. We again deluded ourselves - by thinking she liked the bunny on the box, or the melodious rattle of uncooked macaroni - or even the Costco discount. But since then, it has become the mac-n-cheese of choice, received with squeals of delight in the bulk pasta aisle, with hand slaps and foot swings. Needless to say, it would rival the mighty Hippo puppet in baby delight, if Hippo weren't so darn huggable.

No, we hadn't realized anything was out of the ordinary until last Thursday. I was getting a glass of milk from the fridge when I turned and realized she had shut the refrigerator door. She had shut the door. It was then that I realized, as she glared at me with a look of disdain (or possible thirst). I am living with Al Gore.

What this doesn't explain, however, is her tendancy to get carsick in the Prius.