Lucky me I didn't miss one minute of Mother's Day. At 3:30 a.m. my daughter came into my room, walked up to my bed and said "Mommy. Tuck me back in." Better to get up, climb off the bed, trudge from one room to the next, and wake mommy up versus tuck yourself. Tucking, by the way, consists of nothing more than me unceremoniously throwing the polar fleece Disney princess blanket over her. But the good news is I got back to sleep. 7:30 a.m. my daughter is bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to start the day.
"I'm hungry," she announced.
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What age is it they even consider making mom breakfast? Even more importantly at what age do they consider letting mommy sleep late on mother's day? Or letting her sleep late because she'll be far less grumpy and yell-y. She may be so less grumpy she may let a certain 4-year old collect positive attention when she insists on "singing" "la-la-la-la" repetitively in a bid for attention while mom is driving the car. And, yes, this song has no words in it besides "la".
Well I heard la-la for 5 minutes and then I got yell-y as I drove to a joint mother's day brunch in Ft. Lauderdale. I could think of nothing better on my day then driving the hour up I-95. But, I got out voted by my two sisters on the location - they live in Hollywood which is 2 exits from the location and they're also moms - of 2 kids each, and they have husbands. Times like this make me want to go out and adopt triplets. Or get married. Then he'll have to drive.
The guy I am dating did come with us, but as the only one with a car seat, I'm always driving. Why don't guys who date single moms realize that getting themselves a car seat for their car is much more romantic than the roses. Being on time and not late, is also more romantic.
Brunch was good for the three minutes my child sat nice and quietly. It is true that kids can fill up on two bites, perhaps correlated to there being a tantalizing play area in view from the restaurant window.
After she rolled down the hill a few times in her no longer fancy dress with her cousins, it was time to go. We spent the remainder of the day at the Broward Science Museum which was really neat for the first 700 utterings of "Look at me, mom. Look at me." She flew an airplane simulator, manipulated robotic arms, climbed some structure, powered a light bulb, buckled a doll into a seatbelt and more, and I love my daughter but watching her do most things really loses the wow and the pow after twenty rounds on the same day. She is the Energizer Bunny reincarnate.
On the way home my date believes he is going to be car sick so we pulled into Target and spent 50 minutes there and I spent $200 I wouldn't have otherwise. TARGET YOU FRUSTRATE ME SO WITH YOUR CUTE THINGS!!! Eventually we all got home. But it was an apropos ending to the day. The pat ending conceived by a celestial sitcom writer.
Now it's past midnight and I'm committed to pampering myself a tiny bit once I finish this blog. I'm going to cut my toenails before I condemn one more pair of stockings to the trash. Damn it. This is MY time. Happy Mother's Day to me.
And happy post mother's day to all you other moms.