When I woke up this morning, nobody said "Happy Mother's Day." At least an hour went by and there was no acknowledgement. I decided that they had probably forgotten and I was NOT going to say anything. Then my husband said there was something for me on the table. It was a greeting card. All the kids had signed it. The youngest wrote some of the letters of his name backwards. Pretty cute.
I have realized I've spent over 3 years of my life pregnant. At least 31 pounds worth of babies have passed through my vagina, now known as "The Cavern." I've endured episiotomies, a kidney infection after my twins' birth that required an IV and hospitalization, I've changed countless diapers, administered enemas, cared for kids while I was sick as a dog, been puked on multiple times, pooped on multiple times, and dealt with the worst behavior of both toddlers and teenagers.
So is it wrong of me to think a little bit more than a greeting card was in order?
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