Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mama's Day

At exactly 9:30 this morning I was asleep. Not that I was sleeping in per se with Violet waking me up again and again for a few hours, setting a bowl of instant gluten-free apple cinnamon oatmeal, a plate of sourdough toast with vegan butter, and a small glass of Good Belly next to her sister’s bed, where I was sleeping.


I don’t know if it was the repeated wake-ups or what, but I woke up annoyed. Too annoyed to appreciate my 7-year-old trying to serve me breakfast in bed. Maybe it was the broken bowl in the kitchen I was jolted out of bed to clean, the sisters arguing loudly about their Mother’s Day plans, and the constant reminders to eat my (reheated) oatmeal, as precious as all that really is.


But at 9:30 a.m. my phone buzzed and I realized my middle bro and Mathilda were facetiming from Germany – with I-man, my lovely baby nephew. I leapt out of bed and ran toward my children, announcing: BABY I-MAN!!!


My brother asked if I had assembled my bed yet in the condo, which was strangely reassuring because we're not in touch as often as I'd like. He’s totally right: it’s time to sleep in my own room on my own floor like a big girl. When the kids aren’t with me, I sleep in their beds and when they’re with me, I sleep on the couch or on the edge of their beds, a relic from our tiny apartment days.


After the call with my brother, Mother’s Day tanked in our household. I discovered Daisy had gone on my laptop and somehow deleted about three hours of work. Both kids did everything they could to get out of cleaning their room, which wasn’t in a good state, and I continued to direct them back to it while redoing the lost work. There was shouting all around and threats to call daddy to be picked up. Daisy ripped up my Mother’s Day gift – twice, before carefully reassembling the crinkled up tissue flowers with tape. My parents couldn’t make it at the last minute, and Violet sobbed. It was the soap opera of Mother’s Days for us.


Realizing it was just us, the girls and I made our tentative peace before going out for lunch. We relaxed in the bright warm sun on the quiet restaurant patio, layers of rich emerald and spring green on the distant hills.


After we returned home, after Scout-dog got loose and Violet landed on her cheek in the sand while swinging at the playground and Daisy showed me something on her belly that looks like early chicken pox and I looked up the symptoms for these weird red raised lines that have been showing up on my legs and face for a few days (oh, how crossing the 40-year threshold enriches your life – I mean, the anatomy lessons alone = priceless).


Then I read my Mother’s Day cards, and seriously, I remembered how lucky and happy life can be.


And yes, I like whales very much. Thanks for asking!

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