Sunday, May 8, 2011

Cuatro Milagros

Before I was flesh and blood I knew them. 

I was not their superior, but their friend.

We covenanted to help each other survive a dark and dreary world.

We would laugh together.  Cry together.  Learn together.  Grow together.  Bring each other joy.  Love each other.

I would be their Mother.

Four Miracles.  Cuatro Milagros.

Do you suppose I understood what our promises entailed at that time?

Did I understand the searing pain and paralyzing fear that comes of Loving another so?

I believe I did. 

I dreamed of each one before they grew within me.  I saw their faces.

I knew my oldest child would have bright blue eyes despite my dark ones.  I bought her nothing but blue dresses before she entered this world.

"This is a blue-eyed baby," I would say as I proudly rubbed my protruding belly.

My sister thought I was crazy.  But I knew.

After baby number two their 25 year old father was overwhelmed.

"No more children,"  he said.

I dreamed that night.  I saw him.  My boy.  Mi nino.  I spoke to him.  I knew him.  Remembered him.

The next morning I cried like I might never stop.  I begged for the life of my son who had not yet been concieved.

"There is a little boy waiting to come to me.  I KNOW it.  I need him."

That boy is his father's pride and joy.  His best friend.  My heart.

Mothers have a special gift.  The power of creation.  The power of ultimate selfless Love.   

I thank God daily for entrusting me His children.  There is no greater gift.

Happy Mother's Day.


Fashion Crisis

My husband took me on a special Mother's Day Date last night.  He made reservations at my very super favorite restaurant.  Cafe Poca Cosa.

I ate until vertigo.  Have you ever eaten so much you actually felt DIZZY?  I do it far too often.  I have a voracious appetite for Good Life and Good Food.

But before we went on our date I was all grumpy.  I didn't know what to wear!  This was IMPORTANT!  I had to get it right.

I couldn't possibly go on a Mother's Day Date to Cafe Poca Cosa where you make actual reservations in just ANY old thing.  I couldn't go on a Mom's Day Date and look like a.... well... like a ....Mom!

"I have NOTHING to wear!" I whined and stamped my foot.

My husband chuckled.

"Quit laughing!  I have nothing SEXY!  A 90 year old lady could move right into this house and be perfectly happy sharing my wardrobe.  She would walk her walker into my walk-in closet and fall in LOVE!"

I tried on 10 different outfits.  Dresses.  Jeans. Skirts.  And blouses. Littered the bathroom floor.

I grew increasingly more frustrated.  It was all WRONG.

"Honey, we have reservations.  We can't be late," said Mr. Pistol cautiously.

"I have reservations! About my clothing options! Maybe I'll just go naked.  How about THAT?  That's fairly sexy.  And I know THAT outfit is CLEAN!"

"Um.  I'll be downstairs.  Take your time."


I have no idea what got into me.  It usually takes me 30 seconds to throw something on.  I always feel good about my decision.

I ended up wearing this.  It's not spectacular.  But it settled me down.  I was a baby with a pacifier.

(I took pics before dinner because I knew I would grow a Post-Dinner-Food-Baby Bump.)

The skirt is ANCIENT.  I got at Anthropologie, like, 5 years ago.  The shoes have been positively ROTTING in my closet for months without getting any play.  The gold is really real from Mexico.  The top is Shade ($15-ish).

The following pic is actually and truly candid.  I was chatting with The People walking down the street watching me be a poser.