Mother’s Day started early. Saturday night my friend Ashley picked me up in her awesome mobile to head to our favorite local restaurant.
We met Trix there and she totally smelled my hair.
It was great girl-time in which we talked about wine and sex and being a mom. Not in that order. Or maybe in that order. I forget because the wine was first.
The next morning I woke up to flowers, cards, and the Sunday Paper. I love the Sunday Paper. I love that I look studious while perusing the Target Ad.
We went for a hike near our home. The kids ran ahead because they aren’t old enough to realize you still have to actually walk BACK to the car.
Silly kids. They never learn.
This is shortly before the Two Year Old lost his mind because his feet stopped working.
These are the cows we communed with. I’m pretty sure I insulted one of them. Mooo.Moooo.Moooo. (That’s cow for “Are you expecting?” She is not.)
Here is the picture of my family at the top of the hill. This is shortly before the Five Year Old lost her mind because her feet stopped working.
Then I took a picture of my arm.
Here we are at the top. This is where my daughter shelves my boob for me.
We got home and decided to built a fire-pit.
It was possibly the best decision of the weekend. Nothing beats fresh camp-fire hotdogs. Nothing, that is, except camping in your own backyard.
I hope yours was just as fabulous.