We had a lovely Mother's Day, for several reasons...
1) We ate. And then we ate again. And then we ate again. And we ate a little in between. And it was all delicious.
2) We got to spend time with just about all of our local family members. Even though we're all 'local', we really don't all gather together all that often, so when we do, it's a treat.
3) We made the big announcement. What big announcement? If you made it to the end of the kitty post from the other day, you'll know what I'm talking about. If not...
You're going to have to back and read the entire kitty post to find out.
(Why do people refer to being pregnant as being 'p.g.' anyway? I never understood that. Yet I enjoy it.)
So, yes, we... or actually... Little Blue Eyes and Miss Peaches... made the announcement to everyone. Mostly Miss Peaches. She was just super good at blurting it out, which was perfectly fine with me. I realized that I really don't like to make big announcements. It's a complex issue. I think it has something to do with the specialness and magnitude of the event, and the desire to be very sincere, contrasted against the tendency of my family, and myself, to make a joke about it. It's a weird emotional juxtaposition which I'd just rather avoid.
Plus I'm not a middle child who likes to be in the spotlight. I'm a youngest child who likes to sit back and observe, and be the one who is entertained, not the entertainer.
But we don't need to delve that far into my psyche.
Let's just say I appreciate that I now have children who will do these things for me.
The funniest reaction was at my Mom's house, when Miss Peaches breezed into the room and promptly (and loudly) told my nephew's wife that I had a baby in my belly. The reaction was a mixture of silence and disbelief. I think all of my sisters were hesitant to get excited because they thought maybe Miss Peaches was just spinning a tale.
My favorite reaction was my sister Anne, whose reaction was a subdued, "Yeeessss," and a hug. This was an oddly subdued reaction for her, as she is a middle child, but then she told me that when she was at our house earlier in the week, she had suspected something was up, that I was p.g., but she didn't want to ask, because, you know, if you're not p.g., that's kind of an offensive question.
And because one of our brothers had done that to me before, when I was pregnant with Miss Peaches, but didn't actually know I was pregnant, and we had a whole awkward but funny situation.
Sorry. I feel like I'm just rambling. Am I rambling? It's that awkward juxtaposition of sincerity and humor again. It gets me all goofed up.
Anyhow, speaking of my Mom (I know I wasn't speaking of my Mom, but let's just pretend I was so that I have a convenient segue, okay?), my sisters and I decided to go in together and get her a Keurig coffee maker for Mother's Day. The one we decided to order her was in the color 'Gloss Cinnamon' -- which is basically maroon, but 'Gloss Cinnamon' sounds so much better, doesn't it? On Saturday, my sister, Anne, was doing a flea market in town, and my mom went up there and purchased a red coffee percolator from her. The next day, back at the flea market, my mom was raving about her 'new' coffee maker, in reference to the flea market percolator. Anne thought that we must have given her the Keurig already, and that was what she was all excited about, so Anne said, "Yeah! I know! They're awesome! We're in on it!" to which my mom gave her a confused look.
Later that day, when Anne got to Mom's house, Mom told her to go check out the snazzy coffee maker on the stovetop. Anne went to look, expecting to see the Keurig, but not seeing the Keurig. She asked Mom where the coffee maker was, to which Mom pointed at the percolator and said, "It's right there!"
Anne realized that they were not talking about the same thing; Mom started wondering if perhaps Anne had spent a little too much time in the sun at the flea market.
That's my mom, on the right. She's opening one of the boxes of coffee cups that came with her Keurig.
That's my brother, Tom, in the middle. He's making a grand gesture of some sort. He's good at that.
That's Tom's girlfriend on the left. She's lovely and I so enjoy visiting with her.
This is me, typing, craving a campfire cooked marshmallow, specifically in s'more form.
That last one really doesn't have anything to do with anything, other than that I was so busy addressing who everyone was and what they were doing in the moment, it just felt right.
Now that I'm pregnant I may bust out with random craving desires, so be forewarned.