Eh...

When I impulsively decided to start a blog one sunny morning last October, I had the vague sense that there were a good number of women doing the whole "mommy blogger" thang.  Upon further exploration, I've become an enlightened to the fact that there are approximately a gazillion.  You name the angle, and some mom out there has it and documents it.  Religion, Adoption and Interracial Families?  Check.  (Rage Against the Minivan).  Profanity and Neurosis?  Check.  (Amalah.)  Recipes and Ranchers?  Check.  (The Pioneer Woman.)  Just to name a few.

As a result of all this "research" I've done, I have to admit a growing sense of ambivalence about my own writing and its purpose.  Am I writing for myself?  Mateo?  My "audience"?  (Thanks, Mom and Dad.)  I've heard that in order for a blog to be "viable" (?), it needs to be updated at least 3 times a week.  The little achiever that I am wants to be viable, but Good Lord, I don't even update my Facebook status three times a week.  And on top of that, when everyone else and their mother is already chronicling first steps, religious upbringings and freedom of speech, what else do I have to add?  (Asks that annoying voice of self doubt...)

So, I'm left in a bit of a blog-estential bind.  On New Year's Eve, when talking with my parents and husband about what we were going to do for ourselves this year, I cited continuing to write this blog.  I asked Mateo for his opinion, and the little stalwart would only say, "antidisestablishmentarianism."  Not helpful, my son, not helpful...

Mamaaaaaaaaaa

I'm happy to report that my much debated Mother's Day gift for my mom was well received.  Who can resist a little blue box containing jewelry?  'Tis but a small, shiny token of all the love and gratitute I have for you, Mom!

I'm also happy to report that today's Mother Day celebration at our casa was more fun than you can shake a stick at.  (And there were a lot of children shaking sticks at things.)  Whenever our backyard needs to be mowed it feels like a giant liability, but on days like today, it redeems itself as an immense gift.

Much like my son, a gift if there ever was one.  What a ridiculous blessing to be your mom, little man.

Mother's Day morning, circa 7am, because who needs to sleep when you can be outside playing in a tent?!

Context Clues

When I sat down this evening to write my monthly letter to Mateo (14 months today!), I realized I needed to hustle if I wanted to get a Mother's Day gift purchased and shipped to my mom before Sunday.  TWO HOURS later, I finally decided on what to get, and hopefully this overly thought out gift will arrive in time.  I think (I hope!) that I've always made an effort to honor my mom throughout the year, but there's something about now being a mother myself that makes me feel extra indebted to her on Mother's Day.  So if it takes two hours of online shopping, so be it! 

Given that I'm now completely glassed over from staring at a computer screen, I would like to sum up Mateo's past month of life using only key words:

Blueberries.  Strawberries.  Organic flaxseed toaster waffles.  Molars.  ($#@!)  Dance.  Snap.  Up.  Down.  Up.  Down.  Ball.  Ball.  Ball.  Hola.  Bye-bye.  Dada.  Bye-bye, Dada.  Woof.  Woof woof.  More.  Mas.  MAS!  Love.