Mamma Mia!

Mother's Day is generally pretty low-key around Casa WestEnders, for a couple of reasons...not the least of which is the fact that it comes only a couple of weeks after my birthday, making it feel somewhat redundant, in the "How many flowers/presents/chocolates does one really NEED in a month?" kind of way. (Well, except for chocolate, of course, but that goes without saying, doesn't it?)

And then there's the fact that UNC and the other-school-that-shall-not-be-named in Durham--in all their infinite, yet also inexplicable wisdom--both choose to hold their commencement ceremonies every year on the Dia de Madres. (Raise your hand if you'd like your special occasion overshadowed by your offspring's graduation from college. No? Me, neither! I mean, we can thoroughly recognize and celebrate our kids' accomplishments another day, for heaven's sake! But I digress...) This means that we locals can expect LOTS of out-of-town visitors for the entire weekend, bringing added traffic, as well as extra-crowded eating establishments.

So yeah, we've accepted that it's just easier to stay close to home and enjoy some quality R&R, rather than...venture out and, you know...battle the rampaging hordes....or whatever. As it turned out, given how eventful and exciting the past year has been for our family, I found myself using my abundant spare time to contemplate the ways this holiday has changed for me since I first joined the ranks of those called "Mom".

For example--and I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, here--that FIRST one was just...rough. Derek had made a dramatic entrance, unexpectedly and 3 weeks early, catching Husband and me completely off-guard. (Sure, we knew it would happen eventually...just not quite so SOON...) And then the...fun...reeeaalllly began--let's see, there was the jaundice, for which we had to use a light-therapy blanket at home for a few weeks until it cleared up; the feeding difficulties, which required us to make frequent trips to the pediatrician for weight checks; oh, yeah, and the constant screaming, which we initially thought was colic, but turned out to be a medical condition for which he'd need (fortunately minor) surgery at the tender age of 8 weeks.

Sheesh...looking back on it, I'm honestly shocked that I didn't run away from home before marking my first Mother's Day...or find some gypsies to take the baby off our hands, as Husband and I used to--mostly jokingly--remark after a long day of trying to soothe the little monster--ahem, I mean "beloved firstborn son".

But obviously it all worked itself out, and when enough time had passed for us to forget the early trauma, we even talked ourselves into the bold move of having yet another child. (Parental Memory Loss apparently being a Very. Real. Thing.) Due to his late-Summer birthday, by the time I experienced Mother's Day with two munchkins, Riley was around 9 months old, with big sibling Derek having just turned 4. Yes, they were a perfectly normal, rambunctious, exhausting handful o'boys...but c'mon, aren't they also just precious? (And clearly, we'd already begun travel-training with them, since this photo was taken in Florida, after Riley's first, and Derek's probably third (ish) plane ride. Hey, I firmly believe that it's best to learn early: when the beach beckons, one must heed the call...)

And now, skipping forward to the present...there have been quite a few impactful events in the life of Team WestEnders over the past year...such as Derek's 18th birthday, and his impending transition to college, Riley beginning his High School journey, and signing up for Driver's Ed classes, to name just a few. It suddenly felt more important than ever before to spend time doing things we love, together, and make the moments count. (Sorry, I realize that sounds like a particularly lame Hallmark card...I promise I'll stop right here, before it gets any worse!)

Sooooo, we went exploring

And took road trips

And ran 5K races...and did all sorts of other adventurous...and also ordinary-but-meaningful to us, anyway...stuff.











All-in-all, I reflected that there were frequent reminders that--even though they don't demand quite as much hands-on care as they did in those early, intense days, and they've grown into young men before my very eyes--they're still, and forever will be, my "babies".  And finally, lest I (or you) think for one hot minute that they're aging--or (heaven forbid) maturing--out of their status as my favorite...big honking gooberheads...I leave you with the card that the two of them went to the store, totally unsupervised, to purchase for me:

The inside reads "Trust me, Mom, what you don't know won't hurt you. Happy Mother's Day". Ha! THAT'S MY BOYS!