Lesson learned

0

I know I just wrote an amazing column on planning the ultimate Mother’s Day, but for some reason, I didn’t heed my own advice. Stupid! Here’s what went down.

For starters, I had two unsanctioned events scheduled, so I knew enjoying the day would prove challenging. Our oldest had a soccer game at 1 (with the potential to play in the championship at 6) and a daughter had volleyball at 12:30. (I’m sorry, but who schedules youth sporting events on Mother’s Day? That’s my day, damn it!)

So my “plan” for Mother’s Day went something like this: Maybe squeeze in DSW in the morning and then perhaps hit Castleton late afternoon, followed by Panera or possibly an evening flick. Or, bag all shopping and plant flowers. Note: At no time prior to Mother’s Day did I discuss any of this with Doo, nor outline my expectations for him and the kids, which is why it all went to hell fairly quickly.

I woke up and came down to a pile of dishes. My children did wish me a happy Mother’s Day, but that was the extent of their “Be Nice to Mom” agenda. When I asked for my cards/gifts/clay ashtrays, I got five blank stares. Then I casually announced that eggs and bacon sounded good, but no one took the hint. Shortly thereafter I left for Clay Terrace, only to end up brooding in my mini-van because the stores didn’t open until eleven. I flew by the house at noon to grab my girls for volleyball, help Doo pack up the boys and confirm that the kitchen was still a pit.

My daughter won, but unfortunately, so did my futbol star. Now I was really in a quandary. I could either skip his big match and wallow in guilt and buttered popcorn, or sacrifice the remainder of the day to support him. Regrettably, my motherly instincts prevailed. I did manage a Macy’s moment before the game, and was able spend his warm-up eating soup with Doo, but we didn’t get home until 8:30, just in time to prep lunches. The last straw? Doo’s comment as I was sulking upstairs: “I think we’re just too busy for you to have Mother’s Day anymore.” Pause for effect.

But, we live and learn, and things will go differently next year. Peace out.

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Lesson learned

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I know I just wrote an amazing column on planning the ultimate Mother’s Day, but for some reason, I didn’t heed my own advice. Stupid! Here’s what went down.

For starters, I had two unsanctioned events scheduled, so I knew enjoying the day would prove challenging. Our oldest had a soccer game at 1 (with the potential to play in the championship at 6) and a daughter had volleyball at 12:30. (I’m sorry, but who schedules youth sporting events on Mother’s Day? That’s my day, damn it!)

So my “plan” for Mother’s Day went something like this: Maybe squeeze in DSW in the morning and then perhaps hit Castleton late afternoon, followed by Panera or possibly an evening flick. Or, bag all shopping and plant flowers. Note: At no time prior to Mother’s Day did I discuss any of this with Doo, nor outline my expectations for him and the kids, which is why it all went to hell fairly quickly.

I woke up and came down to a pile of dishes. My children did wish me a happy Mother’s Day, but that was the extent of their “Be Nice to Mom” agenda. When I asked for my cards/gifts/clay ashtrays, I got five blank stares. Then I casually announced that eggs and bacon sounded good, but no one took the hint. Shortly thereafter I left for Clay Terrace, only to end up brooding in my mini-van because the stores didn’t open until eleven. I flew by the house at noon to grab my girls for volleyball, help Doo pack up the boys and confirm that the kitchen was still a pit.

My daughter won, but unfortunately, so did my futbol star. Now I was really in a quandary. I could either skip his big match and wallow in guilt and buttered popcorn, or sacrifice the remainder of the day to support him. Regrettably, my motherly instincts prevailed. I did manage a Macy’s moment before the game, and was able spend his warm-up eating soup with Doo, but we didn’t get home until 8:30, just in time to prep lunches. The last straw? Doo’s comment as I was sulking upstairs: “I think we’re just too busy for you to have Mother’s Day anymore.” Pause for effect.

But, we live and learn, and things will go differently next year. Peace out.

Share.

Leave A Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Lesson learned

0

I know I just wrote an amazing column on planning the ultimate Mother’s Day, but for some reason, I didn’t heed my own advice. Stupid! Here’s what went down.

For starters, I had two unsanctioned events scheduled, so I knew enjoying the day would prove challenging. Our oldest had a soccer game at 1 (with the potential to play in the championship at 6) and a daughter had volleyball at 12:30. (I’m sorry, but who schedules youth sporting events on Mother’s Day? That’s my day, damn it!)

So my “plan” for Mother’s Day went something like this: Maybe squeeze in DSW in the morning and then perhaps hit Castleton late afternoon, followed by Panera or possibly an evening flick. Or, bag all shopping and plant flowers. Note: At no time prior to Mother’s Day did I discuss any of this with Doo, nor outline my expectations for him and the kids, which is why it all went to hell fairly quickly.

I woke up and came down to a pile of dishes. My children did wish me a happy Mother’s Day, but that was the extent of their “Be Nice to Mom” agenda. When I asked for my cards/gifts/clay ashtrays, I got five blank stares. Then I casually announced that eggs and bacon sounded good, but no one took the hint. Shortly thereafter I left for Clay Terrace, only to end up brooding in my mini-van because the stores didn’t open until eleven. I flew by the house at noon to grab my girls for volleyball, help Doo pack up the boys and confirm that the kitchen was still a pit.

My daughter won, but unfortunately, so did my futbol star. Now I was really in a quandary. I could either skip his big match and wallow in guilt and buttered popcorn, or sacrifice the remainder of the day to support him. Regrettably, my motherly instincts prevailed. I did manage a Macy’s moment before the game, and was able spend his warm-up eating soup with Doo, but we didn’t get home until 8:30, just in time to prep lunches. The last straw? Doo’s comment as I was sulking upstairs: “I think we’re just too busy for you to have Mother’s Day anymore.” Pause for effect.

But, we live and learn, and things will go differently next year. Peace out.

Share.

Leave A Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Lesson learned

0

I know I just wrote an amazing column on planning the ultimate Mother’s Day, but for some reason, I didn’t heed my own advice. Stupid! Here’s what went down.

For starters, I had two unsanctioned events scheduled, so I knew enjoying the day would prove challenging. Our oldest had a soccer game at 1 (with the potential to play in the championship at 6) and a daughter had volleyball at 12:30. (I’m sorry, but who schedules youth sporting events on Mother’s Day? That’s my day, damn it!)

So my “plan” for Mother’s Day went something like this: Maybe squeeze in DSW in the morning and then perhaps hit Castleton late afternoon, followed by Panera or possibly an evening flick. Or, bag all shopping and plant flowers. Note: At no time prior to Mother’s Day did I discuss any of this with Doo, nor outline my expectations for him and the kids, which is why it all went to hell fairly quickly.

I woke up and came down to a pile of dishes. My children did wish me a happy Mother’s Day, but that was the extent of their “Be Nice to Mom” agenda. When I asked for my cards/gifts/clay ashtrays, I got five blank stares. Then I casually announced that eggs and bacon sounded good, but no one took the hint. Shortly thereafter I left for Clay Terrace, only to end up brooding in my mini-van because the stores didn’t open until eleven. I flew by the house at noon to grab my girls for volleyball, help Doo pack up the boys and confirm that the kitchen was still a pit.

My daughter won, but unfortunately, so did my futbol star. Now I was really in a quandary. I could either skip his big match and wallow in guilt and buttered popcorn, or sacrifice the remainder of the day to support him. Regrettably, my motherly instincts prevailed. I did manage a Macy’s moment before the game, and was able spend his warm-up eating soup with Doo, but we didn’t get home until 8:30, just in time to prep lunches. The last straw? Doo’s comment as I was sulking upstairs: “I think we’re just too busy for you to have Mother’s Day anymore.” Pause for effect.

But, we live and learn, and things will go differently next year. Peace out.

Share.

Leave A Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.