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7 months ago

1116 words

Photo: Motherhood is intense. Can you just feel the intensity in this look, Dear Reader?

 

If you are living my life, you woke up this morning to a house full of all the consequences for your Mother’s Day weekend ideas. I got to Friday afternoon and said, “I’m taking this weekend off!” The Husband, God bless him, gave me the green light for that.

Welp, ideas have consequences, Dear Reader. And those consequences were as follows: dishwasher unrun, laundry piled in no less than three rooms, lunch stuff in disarray, bedrooms all dismantled, neighbors to be spoken with about the driveway (long story), all floors surprisingly dirty…(Aside: motherhood is being on your hands and knees in the kitchen, looking for a lost baby tooth, and thinking to yourself “damn, how did this floor get so dirty so quickly? Motherhood is not finding the lost baby tooth because it was too tiny to find. Motherhood is knowing that somewhere, somehow, you’re going to step on a baby tooth this week and it’s gonna suck.)

Suburban mom friends are like, “look, the children were taken care of and fed and you didn’t cook this weekend. Whuddaryahgonnado?”

And I guess that’s true. The boys were entertained, fed, cleaned and looked after this weekend almost exclusively by The Husband as I did everything but the thing the weekend is dedicated to. I went out for drinks and a play with my dear and generous friend on Saturday night, my first grown-folk excursion into the city for a long while. We sat at the bar at The Beehive and drank deliciousness and ate deliciousness. Local Dear Readers, do get that Duck Au Poivre, do ask for their handmade fettuccine dish with the egg yolk (deeelicious), and do drink a Scrub-a-dub, which was just amazing.

A graduate of the middle school where I used to teach debuted her play at the Huntington Theater over the weekend. Heritage Hill Naturals is about a recent college graduate who, in an effort to avoid confronting her poor mental health, runs away for an organic farm to do volunteer work. There, she encounters a world she didn’t expect and the people who call it home. The play is beautifully written, with really poignant comments on the way young people are living in the world today. It’s one thing to listen to older people wax poetic about “Millennials.” It’s another thing to see a Millennial bring her generation to life, providing a commentary that both confirms and denies what we think we know about this group of people. The play is remarkably acted by a really excellent cast. The young woman who plays Lucy (the main character) is quite excellent, and I want to give a special shout-out to the young woman who plays Erica (major supporting character), who really is quite dynamic and fantastic to watch. Again, if you’re a local reader, try to see this play. It runs until the 26th and is only $25. Go, go, go! (And tell me what you think!)

Anyway, going out on the town for drinks and culture in the city meant getting back out here to the country fairly late. Mother’s Day was a sleepy kind of day. The boys were kind to me, though, and my husband gave me a beautiful card and the gift of pre-ordered Wakanda that I can watch over and over again Forever (should arrive at the house any day!). I didn’t have to cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner, so… I guess I shouldn’t complain about that unrun dishwasher, should I?

Major drew me a pretty flower in class. Minor did the portrait. Here it is in full.

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Notice the yellow shirt because Minor still loves yellow above all other colors. He said that he was very concerned that he wouldn’t be able to find the dark brown paper necessary to make my face. “I got the very last sheet,” he explained with relief. “I thought I was going to have to find regular brown.”

He then explained that the hair was stressful. “Your hair is different. Other moms had other hair. No one else had many pieces for their mom’s hair.”

Hell yeah my hair is different! I decided not to dwell too much about the rotund shaping of the face (especially those cheeks!). At least he didn’t give me a double chin like Major did last year. See:

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My chin is so big, apparently it obscures my neck. 🙂

If this isn’t enough cuteness for you, please observe below:

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Translation:

My Mom’s name is Keera. (Phonetic spelling is a thing at school)

She is 23 years old. (Yeeeeah, ya’ll! Sweet age!)

My Mom has bran eyes and bran hair. (He is correct about the eyes. We had to talk about the hair because Major says my hair is Black. I say my hair is multi-colored. Daddy wanted to know why, if my hair is brown, that Minor didn’t use brown paper for it. Minor did not know how to answer.)

Her favorite dinner is salid (salad). (Minor clearly hasn’t been paying attention to me. As if he’s never seen me destroy a philly cheese steak. Or a crab cake. Or mussles in wine. Or…)

My Mom always says “helo” (hello.) (Um… yes… I suppose this is not untrue…?)

I love my Mom because I luv her. (Awww. Also, I can see him shrug as he thought about that at his desk. Like “what? do I have to think about it?” I’ll just decide that he thought, “isn’t it obvious? What’s not to love?”)

Another Mother’s Day is in the books. I will say that Mother’s Day absolutely sucked when the boys were babies. It gets better when as they get older for sure. I still just want a little time off, a little time to myself… but there is joy in the arbitrary day selected to honor my status in the family. It’s nice to see them articulate in their own language what they appreciate about me and it’s absolutely adorable to now have two portraits of myself to hang on the wall and compare. What’s not adorable is this house in complete disarray. Lord, we’ve got comp’ny comin’ over this weekend and everything. I hope I can get it together in time!

How was your Mother’s Day, Dear Reader? Has yours, like mine, gotten better over time? Did you get something that surprised and delighted you? Did you do something kind for a woman in your life? I hope you got whatever you were hoping for.

It’s the start to another busy week. I’m here for it. Are you? Let’s fight our way to Friday together.

Until Wednesday, take care.

 

2 Replies to “The Aftermath”

  1. When I read Minor’s comment about your hair being different from other moms’ hair, I had a moment of wondering “Did she repost this? I swear I’ve read this before”. And then you showed Major’s portrait of you and all was clear.

    And not to sound too much like one of “the suburban moms”, but the house is always going to be dirty or in the process of getting dirty again (the second you’re done cleaning the entropy begins). So don’t let it weigh on you. A play by someone you know doesn’t come along often.

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