I had narrowly pulled myself from the depths of holiday hopelessness when I received an unexpected blow late this morning.
A little background. I don’t get to see my girlfriends very often. We have our monthly Casserole meetings, but I had to miss the last one due to my brother’s unfortunate ATV accident. It has been close to ten weeks since I have shared laughter and cocktails with the ladies I value most, without the constant pull on my sleeve by any one of my three delightful chit-lins or a ten-minute negotiation with Jeff on whose turn it is to change the poopy diaper.
I put my foot down this week and decided it was time for an evening out, sans children and husband. My mother recognized my despair and took pity on me, agreeing to take the children tomorrow night. Finally. I look forward to this reprieve and can’t wait to see my pals Bombadee and Duchess Jane. Emails are flying, plans are being made and confirmed. I even have a new shirt to wear. Could life be any better? Shiny happy people are holding hands everywhere.
I am attempting to track down my mother at work this morning to confirm times for the kid exchange. She’s not in her office (we both work at the same health system) so I pull up her calendar to see where she is. That’s when I see it. In her calendar tomorrow night I see plans that have nothing to do with either her grandchildren or her daughters much needed night out. The evening is blocked with my step-father’s company Christmas party. What? Is this a mistake? Maybe she’s not going? My heart begins to beat faster, I can feel the perspiration collecting on my forehead and stomach getting tighter than Schweaty Man’s ass. I page her. I haven’t experienced such anxious anxiety since the doctor told me it was too late for an epidural with my second kid.
Phone Rings
Me: Mom?
Mom: Whatcha need?
Me: Are you going to Jim’s Christmas party tomorrow night?
Mom: Yes.
Me: I thought you were babysitting.
Mom: Oh (sharp, deep breath in)….you know, I can’t seem to remember this party to save my life. Sorry.
Me: What? You forgot?
Mom: Yes. And I can’t not go to the Christmas party.
There was more, like her suggestion I call my cousin in Polo, but you get the gist of it. “Sorry, I forgot, can’t do it.” I’ve tried calling cousin Cassidy, but haven’t gotten a hold of her yet. It just sucks. Now I’m stressed, and pretty sure I won’t be able to go (the pessimist in me). All of this probably sounds pretty mundane while there are hearts aching in both the houses of Bombadee and our Duchess. But, I am feeling a bit selfish and plan to focus on the fact that the most terrible thing in the world right now, besides knowing I can’t eat cookies, is me (most likely) missing my evening out.
A little background. I don’t get to see my girlfriends very often. We have our monthly Casserole meetings, but I had to miss the last one due to my brother’s unfortunate ATV accident. It has been close to ten weeks since I have shared laughter and cocktails with the ladies I value most, without the constant pull on my sleeve by any one of my three delightful chit-lins or a ten-minute negotiation with Jeff on whose turn it is to change the poopy diaper.
I put my foot down this week and decided it was time for an evening out, sans children and husband. My mother recognized my despair and took pity on me, agreeing to take the children tomorrow night. Finally. I look forward to this reprieve and can’t wait to see my pals Bombadee and Duchess Jane. Emails are flying, plans are being made and confirmed. I even have a new shirt to wear. Could life be any better? Shiny happy people are holding hands everywhere.
I am attempting to track down my mother at work this morning to confirm times for the kid exchange. She’s not in her office (we both work at the same health system) so I pull up her calendar to see where she is. That’s when I see it. In her calendar tomorrow night I see plans that have nothing to do with either her grandchildren or her daughters much needed night out. The evening is blocked with my step-father’s company Christmas party. What? Is this a mistake? Maybe she’s not going? My heart begins to beat faster, I can feel the perspiration collecting on my forehead and stomach getting tighter than Schweaty Man’s ass. I page her. I haven’t experienced such anxious anxiety since the doctor told me it was too late for an epidural with my second kid.
Phone Rings
Me: Mom?
Mom: Whatcha need?
Me: Are you going to Jim’s Christmas party tomorrow night?
Mom: Yes.
Me: I thought you were babysitting.
Mom: Oh (sharp, deep breath in)….you know, I can’t seem to remember this party to save my life. Sorry.
Me: What? You forgot?
Mom: Yes. And I can’t not go to the Christmas party.
There was more, like her suggestion I call my cousin in Polo, but you get the gist of it. “Sorry, I forgot, can’t do it.” I’ve tried calling cousin Cassidy, but haven’t gotten a hold of her yet. It just sucks. Now I’m stressed, and pretty sure I won’t be able to go (the pessimist in me). All of this probably sounds pretty mundane while there are hearts aching in both the houses of Bombadee and our Duchess. But, I am feeling a bit selfish and plan to focus on the fact that the most terrible thing in the world right now, besides knowing I can’t eat cookies, is me (most likely) missing my evening out.
2 comments:
TT -Always find time for yourself. If you don't you'll go crazy!
Sorry about your bro's accident. Hope he's ok.
Peace
- Neo
You said a mouthful Neo. With three children, a fulltime job and a husband that works second shift it has become an intricate process to plan an evening out with the girls. And, as you can see, even when I think it's going to happen one change can bring the whole thing crashing down on me.
Brother is good. His bottom lip and chin were torn from his face, but it's amazing what those doctors can do with a needle and some thread.
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