This weekend is supposed to be dedicated to Moms all over the nation. It’s an appreciation of the woman who gave you life. And I am down with it. There will be years when you don’t like your Mom and years when you realize just how much your Mom sacrificed for you; the one thing I want you to always remember, Emerson, is that your Mom loves you like only a mother can. It’s unabated, unabashed, unconditional and beautiful. Only she could give you that.
To me, Jess is a fantastic mom. I’m someone who would say being a parent is hard work, but Jess can make it look easy at times. Of course if a 1.5 year old is following her around whining as she’s trying to clean the house just wanting to be carried around, it might not seem quite as easy. But all in all, I’m so thankful to have a wife who is a great mother.
My mother was an incredible Mom. Judy, or Judith to me. Not many people would dare call their parent by her first name, but the fact that I’m the only person on this planet that called her Judith, still made it a son’s expression of gratefulness, respect and love to his Mother. So that bar was set pretty high, I’ll admit. But Jess meets what I always wanted in the mother of my children. Child. Child. One. Only. Jess read that again.
As we’ve mentioned tons of times in this blog, every week is different in parenting. This week didn’t disappoint. We discovered that little Emerson could work for the government monitoring the air space. Why? Because this child does the greatest rockstar-arm-in-the-air-hand-showing-number-one-point up to the sky. When? Any time there’s a plane flying in DFW. Seriously. She’s got some sort of radar. I’ll look at her and see her pointing to the heavens and pause, then realize there’s a crop duster in Aledo or something. Her hearing is borderline Daredevil at this point.
And then we come to elephant talk. As the child demanded via “thank you” a reading of the world’s most giant picture book of “things”, which likely has a better title than I’ve deemed it here, we ran across an animal I don’t think either her mom or I had ever told her about. A great big gray beast with a long trunk and two ivory tusks. As I point to this humongous mammal, Emmy Kate rears back with her right arm acting as a trunk swooping from floor to ceiling and makes the cutest “prrrruuughhh” noise you’ve ever heard. Daycare is so worth it.
But back to Mother’s Day. We hosted a Saturday brunch then Farmer’s Market grand opening on Saturday with Emerson’s cousin-but-not-really-related-to-him Charlie. There was a petting zoo. Lama, tiny pigs, goats galore, white duck, little chicks, fuzzy rabbits, rooster that probably has won some fights and maybe some other animals. The pet show people definitely were an hour late, but perfect timing for us. Charlie and Emerson gained all this animal knowledge from these books in a real world, slightly stinky and messy experience. It was grand. We then voted, watched the Dallas Stars lose a hockey playoff game and watched a ton of New Girl on Netflix.
The pregame to Mother’s Day was a success. Dad didn’t prepare much for Mom the next day, however. We call that Dad failure. The plan was fairly simple, not the all-out appreciation it probably should have been. Swiss Avenue Historical Home Tour which he’d bought tickets to. Brunch. Walking. And just saying thank you.
Dad wakes up. Makes coffee. Needs coffee. We make Emerson eggs and feed her the last of the raspberries. Surprise. Not enough eggs for the rest of the family. The 21 pound tiny human ate 3 of the remaining 4. So we went to Diggs Tacos on a whim and dug it. That place has donut holes with jelly sauce that’ll blow your socks off. So impromptu win there.
The home tour started at noon, which feels like 4 PM when you’re a parent. So we had tons of time to kill. A Target run would help kill some time and update a child’s mostly-winter wardrobe to more springy or summery things. $210 later, we headed home to put that kid to sleep.
After nap time it was a quick, but delicious takeout pizza from Lakewood Smokehouse and then to this home tour. Dad’s present to his wonderful wife. The greatest Mom Emerson will ever know. And we get there to a line that’s 200 people deep. What? Who does home tours on Swiss Avenue for Mother’s Day? Apparently, everyone.
I’m not sure if all old ladies just love old houses or what, but this tour wasn’t what I’d envisioned in my head as a great tribute to my wife. We love real estate. We don’t love crowds, lines, or inefficiencies. So this home-viewing went from my great expectations to explore 100 year old houses in east Dallas at our leisure to coercing Emerson to not run off out of the stagnant, rebreathed air in cramped spaces while waiting for the people in front of us to marvel at the architectural significance of the 1914 built-in cabinets in the butler’s pantry. Certainly felt like I might have failed at Mother’s Day this time around.
But all-in-all, we enjoyed this weekend. As we’re poised to send Emerson off to grandpa and grandma’s house for the next 2 weeks, we got some really special time in. If Emerson isn’t waiving to strangers or random cars passing by, she’s peering those blue eyes at us wondering what she can say next that’ll make us laugh. She’s looking for the Millie cat, she’s dipping her whole fist into the guacamole. She’s saying “thank you” for the wrong things, or she’s making up new sentences that are just nonsensical. She’s perfect.
So my final thought is happy Mother’s Day to my wonderful wife. Thank you for being something I’m proud to brag about. Happy Mother’s Day to my incredible Mother who shaped me to be the man that I am. And Happy Mother’s Day to all of the women who have given more of themselves to their children than they ever thought was possible. There are a lot of hard jobs in this world, but love makes yours look easy.