10 may 09. I never imagined I'd get to celebrate mother's day aside from being a "dog parent."
I woke up at 6:30 am. sleeping in was a nice idea but not going to happen. b was on call and ginny cried and coughed herself awake at the crack of dawn. poor love bug has a cold. you can hear it in her chest. you can see it in the runny, snotty nose. so sad.
out of bed at 6:40 am. it's sunday. ginny had her bottle and then proceeded to puke. full-on projectile vomit! 8 oz of expensive formula all over me, on the rug and in between the cushions of the leather couch. what a disaster.
then I opened up (the dreaded) greeting card from MIL. "celebrating your first mother's day." oh man. on the cover was an illustration of an african american baby boy. I kid you not. I know she wanted a grandson but virginia is very much a girl. AND I'm white! this is just another shining example of her blatantly not accepting who I am. she hated me even before she met me. inside the card was filled with all sorts of religious scribble to get me worked up and aggravated. "a woman who fears god is praised blah blah blah." talk about passive/aggressive. geez.
then I went down to the basement to start organizing for our move to nyc -- in 1 month! it was mother's day -- beautiful and sunny and I was stuck in a damp and dingy basement packing and going through yard sale/goodwill crap. I did this until the tears.
then b and I argued (gently disagreed) about the legal documents for our new tenants. it was mother's day and I was deep in a dispute over security deposits and official lease jargon (I have a long history of being screwed with rental apartments. must do this correctly.)
then I went upstairs to get ready for dinner. we were going out! woohoo! things were looking up... until I had to get dressed. nothing (seriously!) NOTHING fits this flabby 8 months pp body. it's hideous and gross. I know, I know... sit-ups. but when?
then we drove to the restaurant. closed.
then we drove to a favorite italian spot. the wait was forever and we had concert tickets. of course we got to the show late and... then... there he was. my ex's good friend and band mate. he is also the drummer in the opening band. how do I say hi when I'm giant and fat and smell like broccoli rabe with stinky garlic?
mother's day 2009. perfect? maybe not but I wouldn't change a thing. I have the greatest, most amazing gift of all. that makes this mother very happy.