diptyque = I heart you

Clearly my mother loves me. Look what she brought back from her recent trip to Paris:

Oh and two beautiful sarongs from Simrane, a bottle of Fragonard perfume, some chocolate mustard from Maille, a whole mess of Barbapapa and other French books and CDs for Jack, some Petit Prince colored pencils I will save until he can appreciate them (like when he's 30), and a partridge in a pear tree. It was ALMOST like I got to go to Paris too. Merci Maman!

I borrowed this picture from right here

Oh, and did I mention this morning she played with Jack so I could go to Anthropologie and try on 300 hundred dresses, then when I got home, she took him to a toy store and a malt shop, and god nows where else to pump him full of sugar and presents, so I could you know, dye my hair two shades lighter, try my new dresses on in front of my home mirror, do some laundry, put some toys away, and stare at into space for 15 solid minutes... Cher maman, merci, merci, merci! If it wasn't mothers (and mother in laws) there'd be a lot more standing on chairs telling everyone to just "shut it" (gasp) going on around here. 

Audrey, Reva (my grandma), great grandma, Madalene, and Beth (who just passed) 

My mom's in town for just two days, because her aunt Beth passed away at 90 last week. She was the last of 4 sisters, who all passed way before their time, my mom's mom dying at 60 when I was just 4. I can't imagine what that was like losing her parents with two young kids. She and my dad were both working full time, and in school getting, respectively a law degree, and a PhD. My grandmother was sick for a long time with breast cancer. In the last few months, my mother and I went and lived with her in her farm house. She stayed in a hospital bed in the living room. We painted her toenails, and dyed her hair. She fed me and her dalmatian "Romeo" black jelly beans, "One for you, TWO for me!". She used rose milk lotion, and to this day is I smell that chalky rose smell it takes me back to that time. So I appreciate very much Jack having his 3 (count em) grandmas, that can bake cookies, laugh at all his jokes, and spoil him rotten. Oh, and give me time to stare into space. You can't do that on babysitter time.