On Saturday night, we hauled ass to NH for a best friend's 40th. She is the most divine of women and not just because she had both of her babies on the same day, which this year happened to be Mother's Day, but because she is just simply divine.
Me and the Kid had been outside all day -- me digging in the dirt and weeding with my Mom, who was visiting, and me and The Kid coaching in between (his team is 3-0 and no shots on goal) (my team is... not), and also, there was the dreaded Carnival in town. It's a beach-side carnival but still a toothless drainage of money and self-respect. (The last time I went, I ended up digging out change from my car seats so I could play another round of that shoot the frog on the lilly pad game. Note to self: NEVER go to Vegas.)
So anyway, the party was like all 40th birthday parties: orderly, mature, a sophisticated event in which all of the participants decide to drink too much, fall backward over coolers, and generally act like they are NOT 40. You want pictures? Go see Carolyn. We weren't at the same party, duh, but we could have been. Minus the wigs and the fake smokes: it's the same party.
We spent the night in NH with my divine 40 year old friend (because remember? mom visiting...) (and also, um, duh: beers) so we hustled home at 10:30 the next day early to honor thy mother and also, to get coffee and more coffee and egg McMuffins. We came home to an empty house: they were at the beach the note said and so I figured they were at the Carnival (again). I felt bad for my mom, but I had time to wash the mascara and eyeliner off my cheeks.
My kids came home with rocks. And my girls took those rocks they got from the beach and dish towels they found under the sink and they stuck them in the nuker to heat. They dragged out rusty beach chairs for me and my mom. They made a spa for me -- and for my mom too.
When we were not being scalded by dirty beach stones and nasty extremely hot dish towels, we were slathered in cream on our hands and feet on over-grown grass in my backyard: a spa day.
In the early sun of spring, when my little kids pamper me and my mom, there is no such thing as a hangover or regret. On the thick grass, with my feet in a pasta pot filled with luke-warm water and god knows what, I get to sit on a beach chair next to my mother, her own feet soaking in a concoction made from her daughter's daughter and I think:
I'm pretty sure I can't do better for her. I am pretty sure this is the tops for us both.
15commentsBrilliant Person Wrote...
You have some brilliant offspring there. If my children were old enough for email, I would forward them this post.
That is a thing of beauty.
Very nice.
(I'm particularly interested in the part where your mom watched your kids so you could get a night away. How does that work again?)
That beats any bruncheon, Hallmarky, Mother's Day -- hands down!
Love it, love it, love it! I received my first hand-made "jewelry" this year. I was so excited!
That was more sweet than pathetic. Well, aside from the cooler tripping part.
And I'm finally over my hangover. Three days later...
I don't have kids, so mostly that just sounds kind of nasty. I have a friend with a small child, and she eats whatever soggy thing her daughter didn't or wouldn't eat. Yeah. I guess you need kids of your own to fully appreciate those sorts of things.
This Reads like a recipe for the most perfect-est Mother's Day ever.
Cheers, Picket.
Now, about my cooler that was somehow defaced......
Can they mix drinks, too? Perfection.
I'm so envious of your sweet, sweet Mother's Day! I'm not jotting down notes to leave around my house so next year we don't have a repeat of this year's (and last year's, come to think of it...) Mother's Day around here!
Truly, that is a beautiful day of beauty right there.
How amazing- what a perfect, perfect day.
I am so very, very jealous. Well done, children and happy mommy day to you!
This is great!!
Now this is a Mother's Day post!
You have brilliant daughters. But you knew that.
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