In acknowledgment of all those who came before, all who will follow, and all of us who now walk that slippery slope of madness and mayhem, agony and ecstasy, consummate pleasure and sheer terror every single day in our unending quest to keep all plates spinning as we navigate through the ever changing terrain that is often referred to as Motherhood. 

And in recognition of time served, I mean all of our hard work, we are the lucky recipients of lovely home made macaroni cards, froot loops necklaces, flowers, candy, jewelry and a veritable potpourri of both wonderful and absurd gifts that we preserve in boxes in our closets. 

How many Mother’s Day mornings have we been awakened far to early and presented with inedible breakfasts served to us in bed and then watched like hawks as we consumed each and every morsel with gusto? And then, after delivering an Oscar-worthy performance, arrived in the kitchen to find it resembling something post-apocalyptic and as a result, had to spend the next hour cleaning up the debris?

Let there be no mistake, being a mother is hard work.  You are never off the clock and you never retire no matter how old your children are.  And just when you think you can’t possibly spin another plate or resolve another conflict, you do.

If your life is anything like mine, you probably hold the Guinness record for being thrown up on.   You’ve been through a multitude of science fair projects which you were inadvertently made project manager of, you have been to Disney World more times than you’d like to remember, you have been subjected to the noxious fumes of hockey equipment, you’ve been woken up in the middle of the night by a phone call from another continent asking you where a retainer is, you have fought off sleep to become the chauffeur  from late parties and stayed awake many others with visions of calamities, waiting to hear the car pull in the driveway.

You have been driven to tears one moment and unbridled laughter the next. You have cooked, cleaned and done endless loads of laundry.  You have been the resident doctor, nurse, lawyer, analyst, personal assistant and confidant, often wearing all of those hats simultaneously.

 And despite the fact that you now twitch and occasionally drool, you simply wouldn’t trade one crazy moment of it for anything because you know that Every Day is Mother’s Day and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

So pour yourself a cocktail, find yourself a cozy seat (preferably Mid Century) and bask in your accomplishments because...tomorrow is another day!

I can’t help myself.  When springtime explodes in the country and we are on the cusp of summer my heart literally skips a beat.  When hummingbirds visit while I have my morning coffee on the porch and fireflies light up the night time sky like fireworks, I am in heaven because I know that this is the season when we become more than transient guests in our own home.  This season, however fleeting, is the one that literally forces us to stop whatever we are doing and smell the roses.

While Irwin and I try to get away for at least one night a week during the year and spend part of the winter holidays in the country with the family, it is not quite the same as the late spring and summer when we afford ourselves the luxury of spending considerable blocks of time in our rural retreat.

And…what better way to welcome us for the season than to be greeted upon arrival on the Friday of Memorial Day weekend by a sweet little bird finally building the nest I had been pining for since the start of spring; the nest that has been there every spring/summer since we bought the house, the nest I was so disappointed not to see on Mother’s Day.

It is part of my ritual.  When I arrive at the house, I walk around and examine the changes in our plantings and check on our seasonal guests including the Robin’s nest in the gutter and the other in our beloved Dogwood.  Imagine my utter surprise and sheer glee when I saw the first specks of mud on the porch roof. At that moment I exhaled, knowing that all was right in our little piece of the universe.

We all know that is so easy to get caught up in the complexity of daily living and lose sight of the time we need to spend enjoying the beauty we are surrounded by.  But acknowledging it and doing something about it are two incredibly different things.  Just the other day, I had that very discussion on Twitter with two good Twitter friends, @tandemantiques and @jonathanlegate.  We all acknowledged the fact that because summer is fleeting, we must take time to “smell the roses”, a priority that we often overlook.  I said that I needed to enjoy EVERY moment of this precious season and take it one day at a time.  Hilary (@andemantiques) agreed adding “It's true - I know that I sometimes squander my now because I'm focused/worried about down the road”, something we are all guilty of and Jonathan added: I’m “always thinking of the future but taking time to enjoy the present while respecting the past.”   A truly beautiful statement that says it all and is something we should all allow ourselves to do.

So, here is to summer and the beauty it reveals to us everyday.  Let’s all make a commitment now to stop and enjoy "the sweet smell of... roses” this season before it is just a memory.

Some of "the roses" we have stopped to smell this season so far: Enjoy!