Mother Of The Year

After church yesterday, I came home and I fell on my face on the bed thinking just give me one  . . . minute . . . Six hours later the phone drug me out of my catatonic state. I went downstairs to see what everyone had been up to. They were all gone. Went over to grandma's house on Winslow's authority. (Because you really trust a five year old to relay messages, right? Uh-huh.)  Which was fine–they walked over together, and really, what good was I to them, right? Since I was unconscious. Frighteningly so–seeing as they also made Quinton a birthday cake, lit the candles, cut and ate the cake, without me, and I didn't hear a thing.  Who needs Mom?

The sad thing (one of them) is–I don't even know if anyone sang to him. I SLEPT THROUGH MY SON'S BIRTHDAY! The entire thing. Yup. That's me. Mother of the year. Thank you.

So now, I think, "You know, I should get him a DQ cake today, and do it right." And then I think, well, would that send my kids the message, "Hey, thanks for being so thoughtful and helpful to Quinton yesterday, but YOUR cake just really didn't cut it. Not good enough. Let me do it right."?

Sigh.

 

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3 responses to “Mother Of The Year

  • lady_wolf

    hey don't worry, think of another way to make-up with your kid.. there's always another chance.. 😉

  • Kimber

    The thing is . . . I don't know what's worse–if it bothered him (Mom's such a flake, she slept through my birthday) or, alternatively, that it didn't bother him at all (Mom who?) But you're right. Probably not going to shape the rest of his life, one way or another. They say what matters most is what you do 80% of your parenting ( or dieting/excercising etc) career. So assuming we both live until I'm 82, that gives me 40 odd birthdays to get it right, and 10 I can sleep through. Hopefully those will be the last ten, when I have a good excuse . . .

  • Flamingo Dancer

    Mother guilt, aint it grand!

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