To make my Mother’s Day weekend super gooeylicious, it was preceded by what shall go down in our house as Black Friday - featuring the Boy Who Would Not Sleep. I realized by noon, after a morning sans Nap, that we may be in trouble and I cleared my schedule in preparation for focusing on the Afternoon Nap. But NO, that was not to magically appear, either. By 7:00pm, X and I decided to head to Brookeside for some coffee and desssert in the vain hope that Arun would fall asleep in the car, which he did about FIVE fucking minutes before we hit our destination. Coffee and dessert were procured, but not without Arun waking up, so back home we went. He feel asleep briefly in the car but promptly woke up as we pulled into the garage. All efforts thereafter were just futile exercises until he finally gave in around MIDNIGHT. I can, however, report that X and I are still married.
Saturday, I woke up with much trepidation because it was 5:20 am, the Nephews were coming over for the day and Arun decided “Hey, not without ME, you won’t!” May I, just for clarification, repeat the 5:20 am part????? The most frightening aspect of all this? Arun was all Hi Ho Cheerio. Mr. Giggly Happy Pants. Apparently, I have been worrying way too much about toys and Entertainment Mileage, when all he has needed his entire life was two older brothers. He LOVES his cousins. So, even though Arun was dead tired, he managed to keep his sparkling personality afloat because he is utterly fascinated with Older Nephew and Younger Nephew. And they? Are so patient and affectionate with him that by 3:30 pm that Saturday, I was bursting full of Pride o’ Aunt. Seriously. My sister rides their asses like a bank was just robbed and the results are worth it - she has two boys who are so respectful and kind.
So, on Sunday, was Mother’s Day. I guess, for all us Mommy Bloggers, this a big fucking deal. In particular, for NEW Mommy Bloggers this must the equivalent of a newly minted priest on Christmas Midnight Mass. This is a lot of pressure for a Mommy Blogger - no fuckin’ kidding. I truly, honestly, wholeheartedly wanted to come up with a meaningful "I am Mother, Hear Me Roar" post but realized that would probably alienate most of my Reading Public (all 4 of you!) because seriously, most of the time I am muttering under my breath “what the FUCK am I doing here???” This day, for me, mostly turned into a “I am so appreciative that I pro-created so easily and effortlessly.” It was very hard for me to turn this day into a “Worship Me” day. I just couldn’t do it. Fortunately, I have the Perfect Husband to band with me in this effort. I am not one of those women who says Nothing and then stands by her husband waiting patiently for him to do Something. HELL NO. From the beginning of our relationship, I have initiated something I call “Firsts”. First Valentine’s Day? Requires card, flowers, meal, gift. Second Valenetine’s Day? Requires a kickass meal. That’s it. Similarly - First Birthday Together? Again, requires The Works. Second Birthday Together? Requires a cool gift and kickass meal. Non-Milestone Anniversary? Kickass meal, no gift. In short - X is not required to come up with sappy gestures, but IS required to come up with a yummy meal and at times, cool gifts. As a bonus (for me), the Indian genes in him go along with this scheme - to my benefit. So, for my First Mother's Day, I got a nice rose and a sweet “You’re Special, from the Both of Us” card - blank, not signed. Apparently, X missed that part of the equation. I was tempted to give him a pen and make his ass sign it, but realized I prefer it blank because THAT IS X. I’ll just attach a post-it note for explanation. For my gift, I got a Bluetooth headset - I don’t know why I resisted this for so long, but the RidiculousCar came with Bluetooth and I LOVE it, so now I am sold on Bluetooth. It seemed an appropriate gift anyway because I need something wireless and hands-free to keep out of reach from The Reason for My 1st Mother’s day - Mr. Little Grabby Hands himself. So, now I get to be one of Those Assholes who walks around muttering to himself for all to hear, as if he is onto something Very Important. Because dammit, I usually I am. Just ask my sister - she's usually the one I am blabbering on with anyway.
So, um, on Sunday. Like I mentioned, that would be MOTHER’S day and since, well, I HAVE a mother myself, um, I invited Said Mother over. She came over a bit early so that we could walk my yard and I could show her the back yard that I had just furiously weeded the day prior while the Nephews were exploring my back 40 (feet) and traipsing trails through the mulch. So, um, I casually asked my mom if she had heard of Blogs. She immediately launched into a funny cartoon that she reads blah blah blah and ultimately YES, confirmed that she has heard of blogs. So, um, then I mentioned that wow, how I have a blog myself that where, um, I am pretty sarcastic and rememberwhenyougroundedmeinhighschoolforsayingthewordFUCK??hahahahahahaha?? So, um, at first, she was like “Oh, that’s nice.” Then, I told her how I make fun of her and dad - I told her how her archetype (GULP) is that she is sensitive, cries easily and doesn’t laugh at herself and um, then I quickly countered that my dad’s archetype is that of being a redneck and a cheapskate. And, um, I might have mentioned, well, how, um, I have referred to her mother as Crazy Leavenworth Grandma. And, um, possibly could have featured pictures of her her house. Maybe. By accident. So, um, I told her all of this and um, then refused to give her the URL until I proofread my blog again. Basically, it was the sexual equivalent of coming out to your mother by saying ”Hey Mom! I might be Gay! I might be Bi! Guess.”
The weird part is that, frankly, it was getting sorta disappointing to not be sharing this with my mother. We went through hell and back to get where we are today in our relationship and it was one long, arduous path. We may never and probably will never have a traditional Mother/Daughter relationship. And that is okay with me because at this point in my life, I need a friend, a REAL friend. The sort that you know will always have your back. So, while she will never, EVER share my crude, sarcastic, and often, foul sense of humour, I think a part of me feels relieved to finally be sharing this part of myself with her. That is, when I get the courage to give her the URL.
It is so freakin' hard to get a decent snap these days:
In case he needs a little remindin' about exactly who it is that wipes his ass on a daily basis.
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