Spoiled

Mother's Day can be tough on the ego. But today started out pretty swell, with a lovely breakfast in bed and handmade gifts from some kids who I guess must have picked up some thoughtfulness, despite my best efforts. Looks like they might turn out alright, and that warms my heart a fair bit.

The strudel were handmade by none other than my husband, who has a secret wish to quit medicine and open a bakery.

 Mommy guilt is real, folks, and I know how to wallow in it like a water buffalo. I have so many forehead-palming moments where I just wish I would have handled things better. But I'm always compensated with moments of the sweetest and simplest and purest joy, and small glimpses in to who these little people are becoming, and the strengths and nuances of their characters that just amaze me. This is a pretty special gig, and I'll be trying hard to appreciate the gift that it is, and to give myself props for trying my darnedest to do my best. Happy Mother's Day to all of you in the trenches. You are noble creatures. Fist salute.