A Day For Mom

Since Mother's Day is just around the corner, I guess it's time to start leaving paper, scissors and crayons in obvious places, hinting for a handcrafted treasure. I know it's sappy, but I love those little handmade cards and pictures. And despite Scott's efforts to the contrary, I save them all.

Of course, with my brood, you have to have a good sense of humor, a strong imagination, or both. Take Dylan, for instance. One of her earliest tributes was when she was in 4-year-old preschool. Her teacher compiled a collection of Mom's Best Meals. Right there, sandwiched between the other moms' gourmet concoctions was Dylan's entry. My mom's best meal is...Pop Tarts. And, if that wasn't humiliating enough, she actually included Dylan's stick-person drawing of me putting a pop tart into the toaster. Needless to say, I wore my dark shades when dropping her off for the remainder of the year.

Her kindergarten year wasn't much better. She was given the task of completing the statement My mom is as _________as __________. I'm sure the other kids wrote things like My mom is as pretty as a rose, or My Mom is as sweet as candy. Not Dylan. Oh, no. She wrote, My mom is as wide as a bookshelf. That's right. A bookshelf. At least I was spared the humiliation of a bookshelf-person drawing of me cooking a Pop Tart.

Katherine's tributes, on the other hand ... well, let's just say IN MY DREAMS! She draws pictures that are supposed to be me, but look more like combination Barbie/Bratz dolls. Perfectly painted fingernails, glamorous makeup and hair, and lots of jewelry. The Queen of Bling. If life were fair, this would be the woman to greet Katherine each morning. All made up. Breakfast on a silver platter. Instead, she gets me. Flannel pj's. Hair a mess. Pop Tart on a paper plate.

Who knows what Isaac may turn out one day? Here we have a child who loves to drop face down on the floor at my feet, stick his head between my ankles, and wrap his arms around me so that I can't move. This headlock/hug is his way of showing affection. There has to be a creative genius lurking within, right?

Nevertheless, I will continue to hoard my little treasures. I will keep them all. The good. The bad. And the ugly. (I will just display some of them a little more prominently than others!)