I had a lot on my mind this Mother's Day ... If I had more time/energy to write, it would serve me well. I was thinking about the trauma of childbirth, and the taboo of talking about it. I was thinking about grandmothers, and that Smithsonian article I read about their wonderful, evolutionary purpose. I thought about my mom and her having survived the loss of her son. About my brother and his new experience with his wife, Zahavah, and her new role as "mother." About how my dad has served some essential components of the role of mom, too. About the way my current therapist plays into fulfilling holes in an attachment relationship. About my identity as a "motherless mother," and how I feel more defined by the absence of a mom than I ever necessarily was the presence of her; and how that would break her heart. And I was thinking about how sometimes I feel like I might actually love my daughter more than other mamas love their kids, by virtue of the fact that I don't have my own mom. And then thinking about, if I love her so much, how on earth could I be leaving her for a month?!?
But like I said, not enough time or energy to unpack all that baggage, when I have a literal backpack to pack, in preparation for my departure this Wednesday on a redeye. Back to work I go ...
This church sign, on Multnomah Boulevard between our house and the grocery store, struck me.
My Bean has been very, very, clingy, and I've mostly loved every minute of it.
Mother's Day weekend at the Rhody Garden.
Mama and the Bean.
FaceTiming with Miss Hazel Lynn.
A few iterations of motherhood.
"Let's make a funny face!"
Who doesn't shy away from complimenting our parenting.
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