Mothers need wands (and so do kids)

 I just saw a Facebook post where a dad had gone out into the woods, cut a twig from a tree, and painted it as a wand for his kids to give to their mom.  Happy Mother's Day!

It reminded about the time when I had a Harry Potter event at our library and we went out into the nearby woods and cut ourselves and for the children, "wands" from the trees, using mostly dead twigs when we could find them. then went inside the library and practiced levitating balloons with our 'wands."

Mother's Day books

Happy Mother's Day!

My oldest daughter took the 12-year-old out to buy a Mother's Day present -- and came home with Chocolate Covered Cherries hand made by Wockenfuss, a local candy company.
For me.
The best.
The very best.
YUM.

For your enjoyment, The Washington Parent online magazine has a collection of children's books (and one adult book) you might enjoy on Mother's day, collected by the famous writer and outstanding writing teacher, Mary Quattlebaum.  (Ya, she's also on the faculty of Vermont College of Fine Arts.)
Click on the name of the magazine to see.

Happy Mother's Day!

What a Mother's Day!

The 8-year old had made a beautiful bracelet that matched a necklace I owned already.
(This year's bracelet fits. I love it. Last year's bracelet was so large it falls off my hand.)

The 30 year old actually sent a Mother's Day card. (It's a record -- it's her first.)
The 35-year old had a safe trip home from France and remembered to send me a Happy Mother's Day e-mail while she was held over in Dover, having missed her connection to the San Diego Flight. (That'll happen when you make your reservations and the various flights forget about daylight savings time.)

The reason the 35-year old had to e-mail me?
Because the 8-year old was having her piano recital during the time she had her plane layover and she knew that I'd have my phone turned off.

The piano recital was lovely. What a relief that the 8-year old played her piano pieces straight -- without the additional frills she wanted to do. We've promised her that she can noodle around on the piano all she wants, now that the recital is over.

We won't talk about the pouring rain and the flood watch.
Nor the flow of fire engines (even one from Pennsylvania) that screamed their way past the recital hall, on their way to evacuate a smoke-filled nine-story building full of elderly people who had to be helped down the stairs and taken elsewhere overnight.

How was your Mother's Day?
-wendieO