Mutha....

I'm always conflicted about Mother's Day. I think that is true for anyone who comes from a "broken home". Mainly because your responsibility to acknowledge a vast cast of Moms doubles in size overnight.

So, as usual, I'll be calling my stepmom, wishing I could talk to my Gram, making the rounds to my Mother's place and feeling guilty about again not making any effort to reach my paternal Grandmother.....who really is a troll, so the guilt is incredibly short-lived.

Mother's Day for me usually is a breakfast, followed by strange homemade presents (or rocks). All of which are precious, of course, and oooooh'ed and aaaaah'd over appropriately. Greg carves out some time for me to get a bit of time to myself. Which in Mom-time is about 2 hours but feels like 12 minutes ;)

This year my Mother is living in the same town, so I'll have her here to dote on a bit. Which is nice but a little different than just trying to remember to send flowers. The pic above is my Mother and all 4 of her grandkiddies. I've blown it up and will frame it for her for the BIG day. I'm sure she'll adore it. Cause that's what we do.....us Moms.