So I forgot what day it was until my friend at church gave me a hug and wished me Happy Mother’s Day. It was happy. I saw a friend and her latest baby for a few minutes who lives on the other side of the country. (Hi Esther.) Then we went to the community college dance recital to watch my sil shake her thang on stage. Seriously, she performed a belly dance routine to Celtic music in a sort of fusion style that was kind of awesome. Also there were some tahitian dances, afrocuban dances, lame modern dances, some frightening amateur ballet routines, and by frightening I am referring in particular to the guy in the dance cup and the lycra pants, and some very entertaining hip hop numbers.
After that, because I am a good mom, I consented to going to Del Taco for dinner instead of going home to the dinner I had planned, because my kids wanted to go, and also my MIL was going with many of her children. The Boy got me a dolphin pendant on a string from the vending machine as a mother’s day present, and the girl got a silly key chain. Obviously there was a lot of forethought and planning in these gifts. But, hey, they gave me the coveted vending machine items instead of keeping them and spent their own money, it’s actually kind of sweet.
We came home to eat the cake I baked last night. My neighbor came over with a mixing bowl full of failed white chocolate mousse. She put in too much milk and needed to start over, did I think I could use it for anything? [I’m not the only one these kinds of things happen to am I? Tell me you have experiences like this too.] So I added some flour, sugar, baking powder, more eggs, and came out with a halfway decent, though dense cake. More like bread pudding. We ate that with fresh fruit when we got home from eating fast food tacos.
The GH and his sister started scheming about taking their mom to a movie tonight while we were eating dinner. He asked me if I would mind putting the kids to bed by myself. I didn’t.
However, his mother’s response to the plan, when announced, was to feel uncomfortable with him “abandoning me on mother’s day” as to not want to do it. At this point I picked up the phone and said, “I hope I’m at least emotionally healthy enough that if I say I’m perfectly happy for him to go out with you tonight that I actually mean it.”
“Oh, you mean he talked to you already?”
“Uh yeah, of course he did.”
Then the GH got on the phone and continued to make fun of her by commenting on how odd it is that her first conclusion is that our relationship is so idiotic that that she would need to make sure it’s OK with me. This is how we talk in our family. In her defense, we know she was trying to be thoughtful, but since she’s the one who raised every one to say what they mean and only what they mean, no manipulating back talk, it’s funny to us that she would assume otherwise.
There, I’ve just ruined all the humor in that interchange by analysing it. That’s how I roll. We’re probably the only ones who think that was funny anyway.
Before he left the GH said, “I’ve been trying to think of something I could get you for Mothers Day, and I can’t really think of anything.”
I smiled and said, “I can’t either.”
“Yeah,” he said, “that’s what I thought.”
“I mean besides fantasy items, like a day spa package, a resort vacation, things I would never actually want you to spend money on. I have all the stuff I need already.”
“Here’s something I can do,” he said, taking me in his arms. “You are doing a really good job. You are a great mother. I’m happy that you are the mother of my children. I’m proud of you. I goof of with you and say silly things a lot, but I’m always proud of you.”
And then I melted a bit, and maybe a tiny tear hovered for a second before I blinked it back and kissed him.
My children are sleeping. I’m going to watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
It’s been a good day.