Mother’s Day has always been one of our lesser celebrated holidays. Along with Father’s Day, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and pretty much all the other days that don’t involve kids and candy and presents. Don’t misunderstand, I’m never forgotten on my special day. There are always flowers and hugs and kisses extra “I love you, Mommy”s. But I’m not one for breakfast in bed, or trips by myself to the spa, or outings to one of my places when everyone else is miserable. So until now Mother’s Day has mostly been like all the other days. But now the boys are older and my places and becoming their places as well.
I guess what I’m getting around to saying is that we went to IKEA for Mother’s Day. The boys think of IKEA as a glorified cinnamon roll shop that happens to sell carpets and couches. They beg to go until they get there and remember how many many miles of store we’ll be walking through and how many many times Caleb and I will stop to examine the construction of a table or bookcase. Slowly they’ve become interested in the things we are interested in. They contribute to our conversations about design and that’s what turns this into a fun outing.
Me and my sister-in-law Sarah.
Dan and little Eli in the couch department.
The kids with a mostly empty cinnamon roll pan.
Typical view of our drive home.