According to Wikipedia, knower of all things, Mothering Sunday is: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mothering_Sunday
"In contrast to Mother's Day, Mothering Sunday is not a celebration of motherhood, but a synonym of Laetare Sunday. During the sixteenth century, people returned to their 'mother church' for a service to be held on the fourth Sunday of Lent. This was either a large local church, or more often the nearest Cathedral. Anyone who did this was commonly said to have gone 'a-mothering' although whether this preceded the term Mothering Sunday is unclear. It was often the only time that whole families could gather together, if prevented by conflicting working hours."
However someone forgot to tell the retailers in the UK this, so Mothering Sunday is essentially Mother's Day now - with cards for "Mum" and flowers for "Mummy" for sale on every High Street. I, of course, pushed for two celebrations (it seems only fair as I gave birth to this little one), but instead we decided to wait and celebrate in May with the US Mother's Day.
Last year I was able to tell my Mom that I was pregnant on Mother's Day (the US one in May), which made me reminisce about what I thought being a mother would mean a year ago when I found out I was pregnant. I remember thinking that it would change my life and that I'd probably be very happy with our decision to have a baby. But what I didn't realize, and this is going to sound very trite, but honestly, I didn't realize it would make me feel so ... I'm struggling to find one word to describe what I feel.
Perhaps million words could describe it: amazing, strong, awed, tired, blessed, righteous, exhausted, elated, in-love,... What really surprised me, even though lots of people said they felt this way, is the absolute joy in my heart (honestly, it feels like it's going to burst sometimes) when I see Zack and Beatrice together.
He's such a wonderful father. I just can't get enough of watching the two of them together. Perhaps it is because they are two peas in a pod. I just feel so lucky.
He's such a wonderful father. I just can't get enough of watching the two of them together. Perhaps it is because they are two peas in a pod. I just feel so lucky.
Ok, enough sap. Really, all my hormones are making me weepy writing this...so on to funny tales of Beatrice and the plastic carrier bag!
This plastic bag is her new favorite toy. Seriously. Forget all the nice, expensive toys in the stores - nope, my child likes plastic bags. Throw it up in the air and let it float down, and she'll cackle. Crumple it so it makes noise, and she'll giggle. Twist it up and tie it in a knot, and she'll laugh and laugh. Whoever said plastic bags aren't playtoys obviously never met Beatrice.
This plastic bag is her new favorite toy. Seriously. Forget all the nice, expensive toys in the stores - nope, my child likes plastic bags. Throw it up in the air and let it float down, and she'll cackle. Crumple it so it makes noise, and she'll giggle. Twist it up and tie it in a knot, and she'll laugh and laugh. Whoever said plastic bags aren't playtoys obviously never met Beatrice.
Who also enjoys dressing in purple lounge suits, in the style of Hugh Hefner or Winston Churchill (bizarre to think they actually dressed similarly, isn't it?). See above.
In other news we've been having issues with breast feeding - Beatrice will eat for 4 minutes and then scream (literally) till she is red in the face. Strange. And exhausting. Perhaps she now likes the bottle better because it is easier? Who knows. In an attempt to help "make the milk flow" as Zack put it, he's reminding me to drink (chocolate) milk and feeding me lots of protein (Grandma Elizabeth's solution to my tiredness). I love this man - see the "protein-solution" below:
With a steak like that I can be super-mom! I do hope the newest nursing issue passes. Nursing Beatrice gives me a chance to indulge in two secret passions - picking at her cradle cap (sorry little one!) and staring at her for minutes at a time. I just love her so much.
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