I suppose it's redundant to post this, since my blog is and has always been just a fruit bowl of my experiences being a mother. It's my best, and sometimes my worst moments put down for all to see. I will not commit to writing a moment every day, but I would LOVE it if everyone else did. Thanks for the assignment dear Amberly.
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Today I tripped over a couple of kids to get into Bardo's class room in order to spend time at a special Mother's Day celebration. Just as I arrived, the teachers instructed us to go to a table and make flowers. Bardo decorated his black. and red and yellow while all the little girls at the table drew hearts and curly cues on their flowers. Bardo then introduced me to a bird puzzle. After we played a few puzzles and games, Bardo served me a special snack of cheesecake and strawberries. As we ate our snack the teacher began a game where I had to guess which drawing was of me. 3 questions accompanied each drawing: What your mother's favorite movie? What's her favorite restaurant? What's her favorite store. Bardo immediately pointed to his drawing of me. He was so pleased, and I could tell he had really worked hard on it. I had short spiky hair, was brown all over, and had a body, a head, legs and feet, and arms and hands. I was touched, because Bardo usually still draws circle people. Bardo's mischevious eyes were shining as his teacher held up his drawing and read the three answers to the questions. Favorite movie: Cars, Favorite Restaurant: McDonalds, Favorite Store: HEB (All the kids thought their mom's favorite store was the local grocery store.) The thought crossed my mind,what if these mothers really think my favorite restaurant is McDonalds? I pushed the thoughts aside and then graciously received Bardo's masterpiece. He hugged me and told me I smelled like pepperoni (his favorite food, not my favorite smell). I cringed and smelled my shirt but only smelled laundry detergent. I tickled him a little and said, "You think you and I are just alike! Is your favorite movie Cars?" He just laughed and hugged me and said, "Your favorite movie isn't Cars! Haha!" Then the teacher passed out little books the children put together. The first page was a questionaire. Apparently Bardo thinks I'm 100 years old and that I have blonde hair and brown eyes. He must have another mother somewhere or he's teasing us all. The book also had a poem comparing children to kites that nearly made me cry, and then we released the butterflies the children had been watching from the time they were caterpillars. I almost cried again. I hurried Bardo to the car and wondered if I needed to shower to get the pepperoni smell off of me.