My mother’s day began in earnest last Thursday. You might remember that Thursday, May 6th, was the night of the much anticipated National Mom’s Nite Out. You may also remember, as a result of my social media harrassment campaign, that I helped plan and solicit attendees for the RDU Mom’s Nite Out.
I have to admit that we had a great turnout and I had a great night of fun. But that’s not what I’m talking about. Earlier in the day, as I starting planning just the right outfit that would allow me to eat and drink and not worry about any rolls or overhangs, I began to feel a minor scratch in the back of my throat.
As anyone who has lived in North Carolina for any given period of time knows, it was a safe bet to chalk it up to allergies. Two days later, I’m out running a few errands and I come home and collapse on the couch. I’m sick. It’s more than just allergies. I’m usually the last person to admit I’m sick because I hate to take time out for it. But I was falling asleep on the couch at 8:30 pm and running a low grade fever.
“Honey, do you think we could cancel our brunch reservations for tomorrow morning?”
A few weeks ago, I met Molly Gold of GO MOM Inc. at the Smart Mom Solutions Road Show. I listened to her tell us that in order to avoid disappointment for Mother’s Day, we need to simply ask for what we want. So I took the advice and showed my husband the Mother’s Day Brunch offered at Bogart’s, a sort of classy joint in town that offers a jazz brunch every Sunday. He bit and made the reservation. He confirmed the reservation. He guaranteed the reservation. With a credit card.
“Sure, we can cancel. But we’re gonna pay for it either way.”
Being the frugalista that I am, I was not going to pay for something that I wasn’t going to enjoy. So I woke up Sunday morning feel halfway decent. I put on a pretty dress and my favorite shoes. Add a little make-up and I felt almost presentable. We made it to brunch and enjoyed it (Note: in North Carolina, alcohol cannot be served or sold before noon on a Sunday so don’t get your heart set on a mimosa or bloody mary).
While I was eating, I hear someone call my name. I know they are talking to me since I’m pretty sure there aren’t any other Fadra’s in the room. It’s an old co-worker who happens to be sitting at the table next to mine. It’s probably been 5 years since I’ve seen him but I at least remember enough to ask him how his new job is going. Then I quickly glance at his table asking where his little one is at. “With his mother” was the response. It takes about 2.5 seconds for it to sink in. I say “oh” and he says “yeah”. They are no longer together. A sad reminder on this day of how parenting and marriage don’t always go successfully hand in hand.
Off to our next stop. Seems even more important to stop after seeing my co-worker. We are going to stop by Mordecai Historic Park. It’s where my husband and I got married almost 10 years ago. It’s a beautiful day, it’s a picturesque setting, and more importantly, we’ve never taken my little guy there. It’s full of all the things a 3 year old loves: the birthplace of a U.S. President, a small chapel built by slave carpenters, an herb garden with turn of the century plants. Well, he enjoyed picking the magnolia leaves off of the ground.
Then, it’s on to home and much needed nap. Only my little guy wants to stay right by my side. I don’t mind. I turn on the TV for him and the only thing on is Yo Gabba Gabba. I’m not really getting this show until Coma Girl tells me that “That show is written by, and for, high college kids.” Makes much more sense now. Knowing that my son is being appropriately entertained, I drift off into oblivion for the next hour.
As I awake and ween my son from the TV, it’s time to pretend that I am just fine again. Throw on some lipstick, make some deviled eggs and prepare the strawberry shortcake. We’ve invited some friends over for a casual cook out. Just hot dogs and a few sides. I don’t need filet mignon. Really, I prefer a charred hot dog with a side of my deviled eggs.
After our company parted, the evening continued as usual. Bath and bed for the little one. Heavy medication for me. A little bit of reflection with my hubby. And some quality time with my iPad (my Mother’s Day gift). Just the perfect day. And I have the pictures to prove it.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers (new and old), moms-to-be, and moms-yet-to-be!