Mother’s Day owns Christmas

French Toast Bake. Yeah, I made it, but I got to eat it in peace! And then go back to bed until 11:30am!
When I woke up, there were flowers by the bed.
I had a 1:30pm facial at a spa that is literally around the corner. I had no idea it was even there. The facial was fabulous, actually, and then I bought way too many products.
When I got home, there were three cards waiting for me.
This one was from the Universe. Wow, my relaxation must be important.
One from husband.

And one from Ian.
Apparently writing comes after rolling over.
Mama's mama mantle. I gazed at this while doing an hour long yoga class.
To top it off, he was a PERFECT baby today for daddy, who needed some rest to get over his cold once and for all. We chowed on roasted chicken and ice cream, and put Ian to bed wide awake but full on breast milk, and he cooed himself to sleep. Where's Candid Camera?

Okay, no one told me Mother’s Day was so cool.  Maybe it is because it’s my first? Or my husband is the bomb diggity?  All I know is I got husband cuddle time, amazing food, a 2 1/2 hour nap, a massage, a facial, yoga, my favorite chicken in the world, and ice cream. And Ian just hung out all day, as mellow as a stoned surfer.  And no, he did not get into my stash because I don’t have one.  He’s high on life, clearly.

One comment on “Mother’s Day owns Christmas

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