Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Mother's Day - from the Inside

Saturday, 7:15 p.m. -- Join the kids at their grandparents' after work.

The children are pumped on the second night of their grandparent sleepover weekend. The grandparents set a 9:00 a.m. departure time for our Mother's Day hike with the dogs. I think they enjoy seeing me squirm at their schedule challenge. There was no way I was going to wimp out in the face of seniors working full time and taking care of my children.

Saturday, 9:10 p.m. -- Let the grandparents eat.

However, I might make them wait for their dinner. That's right, if you mess with my Sunday morning sleep in, I'll ask you what you want at Subway then not return for two hours. Who's in charge now?

It's probably Violet. Two seconds out of the car, in front of the sandwich shop, I turn around to see Violet flip herself over a u-shaped metal bike rack, head first over cement, while a woman runs out of a nearby beauty salon sounding the universal parent alarm. I'm relieved when Violet lands in one piece on her feet, but once she notices her brand new owl necklace from Grandma is broken, she falls apart.

I have a policy against giving in to the meltdown, but there are times you just need to go to Target to look for another owl necklace. Besides, like most days, Target could solve 90% of my problems. I could do some last minute Mother's Day shopping while saving myself from yet another installment of I Miss My Owl Necklace.

There is an owl necklace at Target, but it isn't The Right One. Thankfully, Target is well stocked in Mother's Day cards and wine. After several zigzags through the store, I have Violet call Grandma, who apparently is hungry. Save it for the morning, Grandma.

Sunday, 8:23 a.m. -- Grandma says it's time to wakeup! Mom!

I'm so tired. I don't want to wake up. I don't know why I agreed to get up to go on a hike. None of it makes sense. But, there are breakfast burritos.

Sunday, 10:35 a.m. -- Almost out of the house.

My family dawdles with the best. I find an opportunity to sneak away for a little nap.

Sunday, 11:06 a.m. -- Daisy's shoes don't fit.

Time for a quick stop by Payless Shoes to set the stage for Violet's next meltdown. By the time we make it out of the store, exhausted from the emotional roller coaster called shopping for little girls' shoes, we realize it's time for a snack.

Sunday, 11:43 a.m. -- Corporate Chains, you're always there for me.

Simultaneous Starbucks and Jamba Juice, yatches.

Sunday, 12:48 p.m. -- The hike.

The girls are drama, and Violet screams when I try to take pics of her with her sister. Grandma falls while Lena becomes the first ever cattle-herding mini schnauzer. (Grandpa made the difficult choice to save the dog.) Sadie enthusiastically covers herself in cow manure and mud.

I walk a bit ahead for a good part of the hike, fed up with the drama and tired from my blood pressure prescriptions and poor sleeping habits. Behind me, the kids and the grandparents form a tribe of Ohlones foraging for acorns and hunting buffalo. They let me walk in peace and keep my real name for the game. Later, Daisy hands Grandma the dead buffalo on her back, saying, "Thanks for playing with me, Grandma."

Sunday, 3:01 p.m. -- We make our way back to the car and civilization known as Pasta Pomodoro.

Grandpa suggests we get an earlier start next time.  Sure thing, Screaming Eagle.

I'd like to end on words my mother shares with me as often as she can, "Next time you write in your blog, write this: 'what I meant to say is I love my mother and I appreciate everything she does for me.'"

Done and done.