Mother's Day

It's nearly midnight as I write this. I fell asleep with Ben, awakened a bit ago by Lily whining because her water dish was dry, and there were too many toys on the bottom bunk for her to crawl in.

Thinking about the Mother's Day weekend we had--preceded by an awful fight with my sister and mother, but rescued by grand friends and my sweet son. Hallmark just doesn't understand families. My friends and I are planning that next mother's day we are all going out together: moms and non-moms alike, for brunch, mimosas and a spa visit. Our day. Maybe top it all off with a movie.

Today, as we left for school, after Ben's fifth consecutive day of actually, completely, dressing himself, he turned at the still open door. "Good bye, Lily, have a great day," he said.

Then he sang:

Skimmirink-y-dink-y-dink
Skimmirink-y-do
We love you.
We love you in the morning
and in the afternoon
we love you in the evening
underneath the moon
skimmirink-y-dinky-dink
skimmirink-y-dooooo
we love you!

For Lily. My heart sang just about all day.