First Mother's Day

My Charlotte--the best Mother's Day gift EVER.

Mother's Day breakfast.

Mama's girl.

Well, Mother’s Day now ranks as one of my favorite holidays. When Chris asked me earlier in the week what I wanted for my first Mother’s Day, I told him (a little guiltily), “I want one whole hour to myself to read in bed.” “That’s it?” he asked. “That’s it.” So this morning I woke up to find a bright-eyed baby girl staring at me with the cutest grin on her face. Holding her was her daddy, wearing his own goofy grin. “Happy Mother’s Day!” he announced, and then handed her over so I could feed her. After Charlotte had her breakfast and puked half of it back up, Chris took her away, closed the door to the bedroom, and I was . . . alone. For 60 glorious minutes, I read in bed, interrupted only by Chris bringing me my coffee. When my hour was up, I went downstairs to actually be with my family, and then I rocked Charlotte for awhile until she fell asleep for her morning nap. When I returned to Chris, he had French toast served up (I LOVE French toast), with the all-important Mother’s Day cards placed at my spot at the table. The rest of the day consisted of lots of playing with Charlotte, not to mention countless loads of laundry. Tonight, Chris is making his most amazing pot roast (from a locally born-and-bred, grass-fed cow, he’d like me to add). I suppose I should have waited until Mother’s Day was over to post this blog entry, but frankly, I don’t have a clue when I’ll have time again to do this. So up it goes. Of course, cards are so thoughtful and lovely, flowers are pretty (I had the most incredible purple orchids delivered to my office this week), and kid-made crafts are utterly precious (Charlotte made a Mother’s Day project at school, complete with a photo of her and her darling little handprints), but obviously the best gift of all on Mother’s Day is the little girl I have the privilege of calling my daughter. But that’s not all. Celebrating your first Mother’s Day makes you (bullet points, please): • Marvel at your own mother, whose depth of love for you you’re finally starting to get a glimmer of and who you think you’ll never match in mommy talent. • Appreciate the mother of your husband, who is not only a patient, loving grandma for your baby girl, but who also raised the best, most incredible guy that any girl would be lucky to marry (and who is now the most adoring and adorable daddy). • Thankful for the aunt who lured you to Southern California and played “Mom” countless times, from when you were 6 years old and crying when you got your ears pierced to hosting dinner parties for you and your college friends. • Love the grandma who declares your child (and her first great-grandchild) “the prettiest, most beautiful baby in the world, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my great-granddaughter,” and the grandma who always, always loved and supported you in countless ways—whether she’s related by blood or not. • Grateful for the women and faunties (“fake aunts”) who just adore your baby girl. Charlotte is so lucky to have multitudes of women, from coast to coast, who love her, think about her, watch her grow, and, of course, shop for her. I hate to quote Hilary Clinton on such a special day, but I can’t help it: “It takes a village,” y’all, to get all of us (and our offspring) to adulthood in one piece. So to all you women who have contributed so much: Happy Mother’s Day.