ginger fish

This is what Bruce made me for Mother's Day, accompanied by cucumbers soaked in something we like to call "The Sauce." It was delish and perfect. And I would give you these secret family recipes, but then I'd have to kill you. No, really. A few Christmases back, Bruce's grandpa gave us all a cookbook of his recipes and then made every grandchild sign a contract in blood to never divulge them. Okay, maybe not in blood, but it might as well have been. I think I've made it fairly clear before, but Bruce is nothing if not serious about his food. It's an inherited obsession.

Also, I was thinking about how much Bruce must love me. To still want to kiss me after all the physical, hormonal, mental and emotional changes that happen in the birthing of babes. (And it's my theory that we never truly get back to normal.) Sure, there's a lot of magic and wonderful happening, but please. Let's be honest. There's a whole lot of ugly in there, too. Kudos to the men who stand by us in our very best and our very worst of days.



I am so grateful to be their mother. And even in their very best and very worst of days, there is no feeling in heaven or on earth that can compare to my love for each of them.