Monday, May 13, 2013


Another semester of teaching is now in the books.  If there's any better feeling than laying a semester to rest, it's laying a semester to rest when you're thirty-five weeks pregnant & one dumb, repetitive question away from ending up on the evening news.

All my grades have been submitted, paperwork signed & delivered to the appropriate folks at the college, & I've answered what I hope will be the last student email I receive, at least until next December, inquiring about a final grade . . . but you never gave the speech, & it is speech class, after all . . . yes, well, eight absences equals four weeks of class . . . I have to be in a special, *special* mood when I respond to these emails.

The end of my teaching duties left me with a little more time on my hands & a momentary spurt of energy, so as Mother's Day approached, I thought it would be nice to have our families come to our house for Sunday lunch rather than all of us fighting the crowds somewhere.  Thus, yesterday ten people gathered at our house for lunch.  I took a few PR classes in graduate school (as Rush would say, that's public relations for those of you in Rio Linda), & I remember discussing the importance of logistics when staging any PR event.  I typically do a decent job of anticipating the logistics of a situation; many women are detail oriented by nature, but once you have kids, your life often becomes mired in the details . . . making sure everything is in the diaper bag, everyone has two (matching) shoes & two socks on, the dog gets fed, the medicine refilled, etc.  I do a decent job of mentally organizing things, & so it was with some confidence that I approached the preparations for yesterday's event.

As I stood in the kitchen & watched my mom & my mother-in-law scurrying about, I realized my plan to have our moms over for lunch for a relaxing Mother's Day afternoon had gone awry somewhere.  I felt like the novice I suppose I am as they warmed rolls, filled glasses with ice (that my mom reminded me we needed as I drove home from church Sunday), searched for serving spoons, & did all the little things I didn't think of because I was so focused on how much roast we'd need, & how to make mashed potatoes for ten people (math is not my strong suit, & my distaste for numbers is evident when I prepare food as there's always entirely too much, or not nearly enough).  I'd like to blame part of it on my pregnant brain, but I know a great deal of what I overlooked is due to my lack of experience feeding more than four people at once, unless of course ordering extra pizzas counts.

I thought about the times I've enjoyed a meal at my mom's table, or the countless meals my mother-in-law has prepared for large groups, & all the holiday meals for ten, twelve, sometimes twenty people these ladies have prepared, & the seamlessness of these occasions, & I realized that like all great productions that appear effortless, a lot of hard work & preparation, & attention to detail, is necessary.  I also thought about my grandmother, my mom's mom, for whom preparing a Sunday dinner for seven was a weekly occurrence.  I was reminded of the weeks following Reagan's birth when I discovered that, despite all the planning I'd done, & the pristine nursery I'd decorated, & the adorable outfits I'd laundered, my knowledge of how to care for a newborn was horribly insufficient (& when you're exhausted & hormonal is the worst time to make this discovery).  I guess now, at thirty-two, I've earned a few maturity points for having reached the point in my life where I know enough to know that I likely won't reach the age at which I no longer need my mom.        

Post-meal, Reagan's Aunt Deni attempted to get a decent pic of Reagan & I.  Her attempts are documented below:

My favorite bit from yesterday is what Reagan handed me when I picked her up from her Bible class.  It's perched on my bathroom cabinet right now, & I finally understand why my mom always insisted on keeping (& displaying!) & cherishing all the ridiculous Christmas ornaments Jessica & I made.     

With another Mother's Day in the books, summer is officially upon us, & Reagan is gearing up.  Last summer, we took her to the beach.  I'm hoping this summer a new baby brother (who is, I can report as of this afternoon, head DOWN!) & a few trips to the drive-thru at Debbie's Snowball Stand will suffice:

In a final bit of news that is quite appropriate on the heels of Mother's Day, two of the four ladies in these pics are pregnant . . . that's half of the ladies in the pics, for those of you in Rio Linda (apologies, I've upped my Rush listening lately with all this Benghazi mess):

It's about to get mighty crowded on Queen Reagan's throne, & the logistics of a family trip to . . . anywhere . . . are quickly becoming incredibly more complicated.  


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