What an odd Mother’s Day it was this year. After 7 days in quarantine and feeling 100% fine (minus the smokers cough that still persists today) it was weird to spend the day alone doing things that felt very oddly what my life was like pre-kids and pre-Martin. I woke up late and laid in bed for an hour reading my most recent book (short stories by Russian authors). I read my Sunday newspaper while drinking coffee that was hot instead of warm and ate cold leftover pizza for breakfast. I laid on the couch and watched some terrible TV and can’t even remember what I had for dinner (most likely left over Indian food).
It felt like I had taken a time capsule back to 2007 and my pre-Switzerland days in my studio apartment that I loved.
Thankfully there were some incredible reminders of my life as a mom. The kids each wrote me a card and left them for me before they left for Timber Cove (with Oskar’s clearly stating do not open until Mother’s Day). Martin had flowers delivered while they were gone and by that afternoon they were home and thundering around upstairs like elephants on a rampage. Even though I couldn’t hug them or kiss them, just hearing them laugh and run around was all I needed.
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