"Proud Mother"

Yesterday my husband and sons gave me a great gift. A clean house. I don't know if I can express the measure of this gift. Basically, I live with 3 boys, who I affectionately, yet exasperatingly refer to as, "my 3 lil piggies that I love." Hubby task-mastered the bedrooms, and toy-room while I attacked the bathrooms, sans little hands. Yes, allowing me to clean the bathroom uninterrupted top-to-bottom has somehow become a privilege. Play rewards work though, so afterward they took me out on the town. My #rockNrollsoul merged with my #mommaNtheburbs for a memorable Mother's Day dinner out with my boys. On our Texas main-street town there is Bronson Rock,a burgers & beer tribute to the American 'legend' Jim Bronson. (A modern version of the solitary cowboy wandering the American West. Riding a Harley Davidson Sportster in search for soul, on the "Long Lonesome Highway.")

P, Checking out the bike. Z, with his 'rock hard' face.

Patio picnic tables, live rock-n-roll, burgers, black leather & bandana's, and rows & rows of Harley's glittering in the Texas sunshine. It was a #rockNrollsoul dream come true. 

Some how Z fortuitously projected my order earlier in the week while creating my "Mother's Day book" at school. He filled in the blanks on an information page in relation to some of my features and favorites. He stated my favorite food as..."jalapeno burgers." (For the record, it's my favorite burger, but not favorite food.) I felt instantly more young, thin, and fun after reading the rest of his favorable fill-ins: 

While we waited for our meal, I toured the bike lot with my boys. We oo-ed & awed over pin-striping, motors, wheels, and details. A couple bikers, came out from their tables and offered to let my boys sit on their bikes. P utilized his time to carefully examine the aesthetics from the passenger seat vantage point. Unfortunately, we were not offered a chance to test out the aerodynamics. 

 I had one better than the ride though. After the bikes, a fellow mother of boys shared her Harley Davidson vest emblem honoring her Marine. Her son is a fallen member of the Marine Corps. She held the grace of a "Proud Mother" with more than her patch. She shared a warmth that superseded the "Sons of Anarchy" stereotype, although I'm pretty sure she'd cut you if you messed with her kids. I'd do the same for my children. This Mother's Day I honor her and all other military mother's who support our nation with their lives.

I too am a proud mother. I have two wonderful boys. A friend of mine coined the phrase, "her boys are her busiest blessings." I echo this sentiment. This morning my wonderful boys served me a frenzied breakfast in bed. It was complete with tackles and tears. But served with love and a sesame seed bagel, with 2-year-old nibbles off it and finger poked shmear. My 6-year-old squeezed me 2 oz of fresh juice from one orange. Then I was presented with lovely-lady-like gifts. A long white vintage maxi skirt from Lulu's Unique Shop and a wooden chain necklace from a Dallas artisan at Hale House Vintage Living. (To my hubby's glad appreciation, I had previously purchased both and handed them over to him on Saturday.) Good wife? Maybe. Proud mother? Definitely.