mother’s day, then and now

I had a great Mother’s Day on Sunday. Let’s be honest – the best part of the day started the night before, when Mark offered to let me sleep in so I could continue my Downton Abbey marathon into the wee hours. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. After a glorious morning of sleeping in, we went to lunch at Habana’s restaurant – a Cuban joint at a place called the Anti-Mall. It’s safe to say that Habana’s is about the last place most people would choose for a Mother’s Day lunch – they blare ambient techno, the servers seem perpetually annoyed by children, and it’s typically full of college-aged hipsters who are taking a break from trying on clothes at the adjacent Urban Outfitters. But I love it, and seven years ago when we were still a childless couple, I chose it for that very reason, and the tradition stuck. In May of 2005, Mark and I had a nice casual brunch at Habana’s, where I had a mojito to drown out my sorrows about not being a mom. In May of 2006, Jafta had joined our family, and I didn’t get to have a mojito. Because, we had a little surprise cooking that year. In May of 2007 and 2008, we were a party of four, and apparently were too frazzled to take photos. (Or I was too drunk. On account of the mojitos). In 2009, Karis joined the party a few weeks before mother’s day. Mojito courtesy of the Medela Pump In Style. (Ya’ll ladies know what I’m talkin’ about). Here we are our first year as a family of six, with Kembe newly home from Haiti. He was not quite sure yet whether or not he really wanted a mom. Or anyone in charge of him, for that matter. I might have had two mojitos this year. Last year, we were all looking a little more refreshed. (Including the fountains.) Kembe was on board with the whole concept of having a mom.  Even a little enthusiastic about it, which was nice. And then this year.  Again, Kembe was my biggest cheerleader for Mother’s Day.  And again, a picture with all six of us looking at the camera proves impossible. Tradition! Somehow I feel compelled to start singing another little song from Fiddler on the Roof. Join me, won’t you? Sunrise, Sunset
Sunrise, Sunset
Swiftly, fly the years . . .