Tag Archive | Mother’s Day

It’s all fun and games until somebody pukes.

Saturday was a day Owen and I were looking forward to.  Ever since our last high tea excursion in the city, we wanted to do it again and bring my mom- this would be my Mother’s day with her. We decided to use this weekend for it instead of actually going on Mother’s Day weekend since we wanted to avoid any crowds – you know how crowded those High Teas can get! (rolls eyes) and also, we have other plans Mother’s day weekend. So this weekend it was.

Owen woke me up at 7 am on Saturday morning. He whispers- ‘I’m excited for High Tea, I can’t sleep’. Okay buddy, I’ll get up. 7 is not too early, and honestly, I like getting up and having time to catch up on emails, harvest my crops in WeTopia, you know, the usual stuff.

When it was time to go to the city to the fancy schmancy hotel, Owen had his nice shirt on and his good sweater on. Off we went in the stylin’ minivan (dear heavens this vehicle hasn’t seen a sponge or soap in months). Y’all know how much I love my minivan.

The doorman greeted us in his smart coat and hat, and I had Owen take my picture next to the Daniel Craig ad at the Omega store (duh, of course!) as the doorman looked on and laughed telling us a story of another group taking their picture next to the same picture. I guess everyone admires Mr. Bond.

Hold that thought! (Screeching tire sounds) Wait just a minute!! I forgot one important thing!!

The night before, while I was tucking Owen in, he asks me- “Mom, is being a kid going to be the best years of my life? Because I get to spend all this time with you.”

Lump in throat, eyes watery. Oh. My. Goodness. THIS is what parenting is all about. Geeze. OOOH I just hugged him to bits that night.

Okay, fast forward, back to High Tea.

Owen ordered his own pot of their signature black tea blend. He got his own tower of little sandwiches, petit fors and scones. There’s little things of cream and marmalade on the table. So. Cute.

My mom and I shared a tower of little cucumber sandwiches, curried chicken sandwiches, tarts, cream puffs and scones. We’re like, “gosh, this seems so small, is there enough food?” We even had one of the waitresses sneak us some extra sandwiches. Not kidding!!

Did we get full on our second scone and third cucumber sandwich? You bet your sweet tea pots we did! We even took home some leftovers. Silly little nitties we are! After a whole pot of tea filling your belly and those little lemon tarts with the cream, you fill up a lot faster than you think! WE learned our lesson!

Owen started to complain he didn’t feel good. Hmm, he said he didn’t feel good when he got out of the car. Let’s see here, (scratches head and thinks hard)  I’m going to make the assumption he’s just full. Funny, how when your kid complains of a stomach ache, you reason with yourself all the things it probably is. Heaven forbid, there’s ACTUALLY something wrong with them. The last thing we want is puking. I don’t just jump to the conclusion of, “oh my goodness, you’ve got the flu, quick, you need a bowl, you might vomit everywhere”. (This is called foreshadowing folks.)

Owen originally wanted to go to the University of Washington’s bookstore. That kid loves books. He was looking forward to looking at and showing books to Oma. They have a great kid’s section and lots of young adult fiction and classics. It’s really awesome.

You know it’s bad when your kid gives up the equivalent of a trip to the toy store, and asks to go home.

Ruh Roh.

“Hmm, here- hold this (hands him the paper bag the left over scones were packed in. YES I took them out first, duh!), just in case buddy ‘kay? Not that you are going to throw up (wipes his little brow comfortingly), but just in case.”

Sure enough- he moaned the entire 20 minute ride home, as soon as we pull in to the neighborhood entrance, HURL sounds come from the back seat! (Gag reflex on mom- engage, blech)

Within seconds the sour, stenchy, biley smell starts filling up the car. I roll the windows down and speed the heck home.

We get on the driveway, I jump out, help him out. Well, the bag was helpful. But not 100%. He’s covered in it. He’s sitting in it. It’s in the seat belt. On his face.

OH GOOD LORD!!

He gets on the driveway and kneels down and takes a Tebow. I see that it has covered the back of his pants. While I get a roll of paper towels and start on the car, he is making sure he is done puking for the time. Poor buddy.

My mom is just chill and being there for Owen, and I’m not letting her help.  I jump in fight or flight mode- which in this case is fight- cuz running down the street screaming isn’t going to get my van clean. And by fight I mean- grabbing every paper towel product and spray cleaner/carpet spray/ Febreze product in sight. Mom goes inside and waits for Owen to change. Once he does- I strip him inside the garage and then throw his clothes in the washing machine immediately- he snuggles on the couch with ‘The Bowl’ and chats with Oma. She gets him some water and he seems pretty good actually.

I have NO IDEA what the heck it was. He says there was a kid that puked at school and went home. I tell you, there’s been at least 4 kids that have puked in his classroom this year. His teacher must have a steel clad stomach. That’s just the worst. (shiver)

My mom and I hug and laugh on the irony of the day. Oh well. I guess this is what ‘Mother’s Day’ is all about right?? It’s never just about us- someone has to go and puke and ruin the fun! I’m just kidding! Owen felt so awful, not just in the bellyache kind, but in his heart. He was so sweet and thanked me for taking him to tea. We three promised we would do it again another time AND the book store so that we could make up for the crappy end to such a fine start to the day.

That whole afternoon we snuggled- well, I snuggled on the armchair NEXT to the couch- I’m not stupid- I think I washed my hands like, 12 times and I gave him ginger ale and he watched Harry Potter. And yes, I made myself a cup of tea. I know, I know, it’s like I need an intervention. But after all that cleaning up and chaos with the car pukeness, I needed a relaxing cup of tea.

The coast was clear for the next 12 hours and he was able to go see the Avengers movie with his buddy like he planned on Sunday. That’s his birthday party this year. Just to see a movie with a friend and go out to eat afterwards. I LOVE kids getting older and I don’t have to plan stuff!! Yay me!

And yes- the car STILL smells. I’m working on it. And yes, I’m trying every remedy known to Googlekind. So if it’s on the internet, I’ve tried it. It’s about 85% vomit-smell free now.

Happy Mother’s Day alls y’alls.

Me and Daniel- OKAY, fine- Me and a picture of Daniel.

Look at him pour his milk in his tea cup like a good English lad!! See all the cute, little fancy accoutrements on the table??

What I REALLY want for Mother’s Day. Really.

Peace.

Not world peace. That would be nice.  Just peace. And quiet. It’s not hard really. Is it?

I will admit, my children are older now. They are very good at entertaining themselves. They usually are off at a friend’s house, stuck in a book, watching a show, at school, whatever. So I have it good. But sometimes on weekends when the whole family is together, it gets a little dicey. There’s bickering. Snide remarks. Insults under the breath (ARGH, I hate that!) and sometimes tears. Usually by the boy after the girl tells him he’s a stupid boy that needs to go away. She can get a little nasty sometimes. She’s in training to be the perfect mercurial moody woman. But there’s also times when they are the best little angels. I mean really. They can be so sweet to each other. Mostly on my special days- like birthdays and Mother’s day, they know to be nice. They have even written a contract some years. I’ll be pulling out the contract again this year.

But back to Mother’s Day. MY Mother’s Day. I will not let myself feel guilty for wanting a real Mother’s Day. Why not?? I deserve it dammit!

I’ve learned over the years how to play the Mother’s Day game. I am so blessed and lucky to have my mom. I have my mother in law nearby as well. So in the years of early motherhood, I was the pleaser. I tried to please them and try to have it all but in the end, just got frustrated. Mother’s Day sucked. So now, I spread it out. I have the ability to have time with my mom on one day. And then usually the Saturday before Mother’s Day Sunday, we can all go down to my in-laws and do the grandma thing where she can revel in the children, they can make her feel special, and everyone’s happy.

So I’ve come up with some Mother’s Day options to pick from for myself:

There’s the Fantasy Mother’s Day; Daniel Craig brings me tea on a tray while he’s wearing Speedos and tells me I’m the new Bond girl and he needs to take me to the set in Istanbul the next morning on the studio’s private jet. Hmmm, not sure about this one. That would confuse the children greatly why James Bond is barely clothed in our house and daddy’s scooping the cat box. They might need therapy.  Maybe scratch that idea.

There’s the I’m Tired of Being Around My Kids Mother’s Day; You spend the whole day at a spa and don’t come home until they are tucked in bed. As great as this sounds,  this is hard since it’s on a Sunday and I don’t know many spas around with those hours. Also- very confusing to the children. It is, after all, the day I’m celebrating my motherhood which only is because of their existence. Probably another reason for therapy in their adult years.

There’s the I’m Such A Wonderful Mommy I Want To Spend The Whole Day With My Kids Making Flower Pots and Ceramic Tiles and Go to A Petting Farm Mother’s Day. Well, this just wouldn’t do because it would drive me batshit crazy and I would be exhausted and one of us (me) will end up in tears.

Then there the balance of the second and third choice. The Please Just Pick Up Your Shit, Be Nice, Let Me Sit And Drink A Cup of Tea Without It Getting Cold and Make Me A Meal Mother’s Day. YES!! Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!

This is the Mother’s Day I want.

It’s not that hard. It just takes a little pre-planning.

It will go something like this-

Wake up to smiling faces and a hot cup of tea brought to me in bed. I don’t even need a gift- just the hand made cards will do. Oh wait- I already took the kids to Target to buy my Mother’s Day cards, so all they have to do is sign them. How easy is that?? I didn’t look at the cards, in case you are wondering. Just for that fabulous gesture on my part, my husband should really buy me a yellow diamond pendant. Because when I say I don’t want a gift I am totally lying. I always want gifts. Who am I, a monk?? Gifts. Please!

We will get ready and go to church. On time. No fighting. No whining about shoes that don’t feel right. No rolling eyes because church is boring. Just get in the car, keep your mouth shut and sit in church dammit!

We will then go somewhere to dine. It doesn’t have to be a fancy schmancy four course brunch or super uber expensive brunch buffet. Which I never eat my money’s worth anyway. It just needs to be someplace that isn’t IHOP or Applebees. If they wanted to cook, I would be okay with that. (Again, another lie. I would SO not be okay with this)  My husband doesn’t cook and then I would end up doing the cleaning up or getting annoyed with how he’s using the wrong spatula on the non-stick skillet. You know what I mean? So just getting out of the house is probably best for all.

After we’ve dined, I might just read a book for the rest of the afternoon. Curl up and watch James Bond DVDs with the boy. Maybe it will be sunny and I can lounge out on the deck.

There will be no last minute scramble to get homework done, PE uniforms in the wash, rushing out to buy poster board at the office supply store, scrambling to make a video for math class that needs to be uploaded to YouTube or any other hasty hurried spur of the moment thing forgotten by either offspring.

Dishes will be put in the dishwasher. Toilet paper will be replaced on the roll- squares going OVER, not under. Towels will be hung up on towel racks after showers not to be found later in a mildewy damp pile. Socks will be put in the hampers.

This isn’t too much to ask. It can be done. The other 363 days (my birthday is the other ME day) I will handle the chaos, messes and emergencies. But not Mother’s Day. It’s just one day. One day. That’s all I ask.

Thank you.