Elayna gave me a gorgeous carved soapstone skull - the skull is all lacy curlicues, and you can see the brain inside, and its beautiful and perfect. And I am so glad I have a daughter who looks at that and says "Wow, that's beautiful, and Mom would love it."
Adam gave me a three-month Monthly Mysteries subscription. :) I got to pick out stuff for the first installment yesterday - shells and colored pearls.
My parents sent me a cookie basket. Well, Dad did. Conversation from when I called to thank them:
Dad: "Your mother is angry with me, that I sent you that."
Dad: "Because I did it."
Me: "Okay." To Mom: "Why are you mad at Dad?"
Mom: "I didn't know he was going to do that! We talked about getting you something, but we never decided. I didn't know if you'd like it."
Me: "No, it's good. The snickerdoodles are really good."
Mom: "It doesn't have enough chocolate for you!"
Me: "No, Mom, it's fine. There are chocolate chip cookies. And M&M cookies. There's plenty of chocolate."
Mom: "Well, I know chocolate is your thing. I couldn't see the assortment. I didn't know - it doesn't have enough chocolate."
Me: "It has just enough. The chocolate balance is perfect. I like snickerdoodles, too."
Mom: "Well. Chocolate is your thing."
I prefer snickerdoodles, actually. I'm mostly a molasses/ginger cookie girl. I really only go for chocolate chip when it's pumpkin chocolate chip. But Mom has internalized that I like chocolate and is very focused on that. It is exactly that kind of focus that led to my inexplicable childhood gift-elephant collection and young-adult gift designer Barbie collection. Dear Mom I like books. But thank you for trying.
So. Mother's Day! Elayna and I spent Mother's Day in New Hampshire, at kythryne's birthday party... a sheep and fiber arts festival, then Buffy episodes on the big screen. Why spend my Mother's Day at someone else's party? Because I love my awesome creative wonderful friends. And they love my daughter, and she loves them. And part of the awesomeitude of motherhood is watching your child grow, watching your baby become a child become a teenager who gronks at goats with you and tells your friends all about her stories and listens to them, and who feels safe to be her own wild beautiful creative self. Part of being a mom is raising up the next generation of writers, of artists, of singers, of musicians. And Kyth and Emily and Amy and Cat are her peers, really. They are not (yet) mothers, but they are part of the raising of this girl in that they love and respect her and show her who she can be.
And god, I love my daughter - I look at her and my heart spills over and there is sometimes this ache, because if I miss her just when she's at school and I miss her acutely when she's at Explo, what's it going to be like when she goes to college, when she moves out? And what if she moves out of town, out of the state, out of the country?
So she gave me a beautiful delicate skull for Mother's Day. But she also gave me time. A whole day of not fussing about homework and housework. Singing in the car, lunch at a restaurant where she was not picky and she picked out a rose for me, and a whole day of walking around and laughing at recalcitrant alpacas and playing with yarn and devising a plan to sneak Angora rabbits into the house, and deciding that we'll have goats when we have our own house - and playing with a dog and picking out pearls and curling up against each other to watch favorite episodes of a favorite show, and it was perfect.