This child. Looking at her mother with such love.
And pure delight.
When she smiles, she smiles with her whole being. She'd just had a nursey in the car after Target shopping. As did August.
Here's the second suspect in the cuteness-breaking-the-world crime.
It was his first time to sit in the cart seat and he was absolutely stunned and amazed. And happy.
For a few minutes, at least.
Here are the co-conspirators after a lunch nap.
Guilty, your honor. Guilty of exceeding the cuteness limit, of being adorable beyond redemption.
This is why whenever my kids text or call me and say, "Do you want to go..."
I don't even bother to see where or when. I just pretty much say, "Of course!"
And then I trudge my old Mermer self out and follow my daughters around and sniff fuzzy heads and hold babies and tickle and nibble toes and push carts or do whatever needs and deserves to be done because these children are not going to be this age ever again and...
What the hell am I saying? Their age isn't going to matter because pretty soon they're going to be the most adorable toddlers, toddling around together and their mamas are going to need even more help (they don't really need my help, I just use that as an excuse) and it's going to be impossible to not go anywhere with them whenever I am asked.
And frankly, it makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world that my kids want to hang out with me even though they do sometimes make fun of me and remind me of things I did when they were children that make me apologize profusely and promise to pay their therapy bills although sometimes, they also remind me of things that I did that make me quietly proud.
Hell. We do our best. And when I observe them, as mothers, I know I did okay.
Plus. We laugh ourselves silly, talking about sex and stuff that you can talk about with your grown daughters.
And I love that my kids know I am a completely imperfect being and that I've never lied about that and they still love me anyway.
And we ate lunch with Hank who also seems to love his mama and yeah, it was a sweet day although we ate so much at the Indian buffet that we couldn't sample a damn thing at Costco and WE HATE THAT! And they were sampling everything, goddam it. Everything except coffee, which is what we needed.
After I dropped off the sisters and babies at Lily's house and hugged and loved on my boys who are doing much better, I came home and set up the ironing board and ironed. It was awesome.
Sometimes I wonder what people think when they first stumble on my blog. What is this blog about? Grandchildren? Chickens? Gardens? Cooking? Anxiety and depression? Aging? Florida? Keith Richards?
And I would have to say YES! All of that.
But mostly what it's about is love.
All right. I'm going to go cook our supper.