Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day!

I considered waiting in bed for my breakfast, but being the mother of teens means that would be more like lunch, and I am hungry! I considered bringing my toast back up to bed, but…crumbs. The dog did his finest attempt to show his love this morning by bullying his fourteen pound self into bed and mushing his face against the length of me. I am pretty sure he was just scratching his face, or trying to push me to let him outside again.

I typically try to keep the bar rather low around this place, but I fear that the first Mother's Day photo selection I used in 2013 is difficult to beat. Still, I found myself looking for another snapshot that would serve to capture a very special mother and daughter bond. Considering that the Met Gala was just this past week, something stylish seemed appropriate...

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! Can I interest you in some mint? It appears as though our penchant for coordinating our outfits started long ago. I remember how much I loved that dress you made for me. I am second guessing the blouse I chose to wear underneath, but the smile on my face says that I thought I looked fantastic. You've always made me feel special, which no doubt is more the reason for my grin. It seems you kept the frosted green eye shadow to yourself...I forgive you. 

Now as I was rummaging through one of the bins of treasured photos, I came across something so wonderfully awful that I wondered if it needed to be shared. Then I realized the photo was marked "Mother's Day 1981", and thought the twenty-fifth anniversary of this gem could not pass silently. (I then did some more advanced calculations and realized this is actually the thirty-fifth anniversary.)

Aside from the fact that I am smiling, there is not one single other thing acceptable about this photo. My hair hurts just looking at how it is wrestled into those two barrettes. That part on my head is screaming! I was barely 5'3" tall so the illusion of how long my legs look means the rest of my too short clothes have been scooted too far up my body. I could have almost reconciled the socks, but not paired with those shoes. I have no one to blame other than my almost twelve year old self for this photo existing, as it is not as if I am running from the camera. On the contrary, I look damn proud! If anyone needs me, I will be standing in my closet in my pajamas, fearful of making a poor wardrobe decision.