Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma
Every time Doodles starts chanting "ma-ma-ma-ma-ma," I run up to him, put my face in his face, and say, "Mama's right here sweetheart. Mama is right here," hoping that one of these days he'll make the connection. So far all he does is look up at me as if I'm a crazy lady and switches his babble to a different sound. "La-la-la-la-la-la." Lately he's been working on his s sounds.
Tweedle Twirp came to spend the weekend with us, and she wanted to meet up with a high school friend, J., who now lives here. J.'s older brother is the one who got married in Tulsa last week. In high school, J. and I weren't close at all--after all, he was just my best buddy's kid brother--but now that we're all grown-ups, we've become friendly and I really like his wife a lot. We see each other every six months or so and always have a good time. I called him up to confirm our Saturday plans and he said, "Well, can you do brunch on Sunday? I know a great place that only has brunch on Sunday." I hesitated, and finally I said, "You know, Sunday is Mother's Day." J. said, sounding surprised, "Oh, is your mother coming to town?" "No," I said. Again I hesitated, because the words sounded so alien coming from my mouth. "But, you know, I'm a mother." Dead silence from his end. Finally he says, "Yeah, I just keep having problems wrapping my head around that."
Which leads me into Mother's Day. My first. And so far, I can honestly say, it's the best one I've ever had. We started the day with the Melrose Run for Women, a 3.5 mile race. I didn't have my finest mother moment that morning--I packed a breakfast for Adam to feed Doodles while I ran, but I forgot to pack a spoon, so Adam frantically drove around Melrose at 8:30 on a Sunday morning looking for someplace that had a plastic spoon. The race itself was terrific. It turned out to be a fairly cold morning, but I warmed up as soon as the race got underway (I will say that Doodles was dressed just right. I always tend to dress him more warmly than myself). I ran the beginning at what I thought was my normal running pace, and it turns out I'm a bit faster than I thought. I had been under the impression that I ran 11- or 12-minute miles. But the first three miles I was doing 10-minute miles and I pulled it out the last half mile to finish in 33:37. I know that for the majority of the running world, this is still incredibly slow, but it makes me happy that I'm starting to get back into running shape.
After breakfast, Adam and Doodles presented me with flowers, chocolates, and a c.d. I had really wanted. Doodles also made me a lovely card (and how smart is he? How many 8 1/2 month olds do you know who know how to use Photoshop?). Of course, it was really my second card from Doodles: he came home from day care on Friday with a lovely gold glitter hand print for me. His first art work. You can be sure it's already on the fridge.
The rest of the day was brunch with Adam's family at Rubin's (where I almost embarrassed myself for asking for sour cream for my potato pancakes before I remembered the meat-serving deli was kosher), dropping Tweedle Twirp off at the train station, and a nap for me! A perfect day for an almost-perfect mother (stop laughing! I said almost).
Tweedle Twirp came to spend the weekend with us, and she wanted to meet up with a high school friend, J., who now lives here. J.'s older brother is the one who got married in Tulsa last week. In high school, J. and I weren't close at all--after all, he was just my best buddy's kid brother--but now that we're all grown-ups, we've become friendly and I really like his wife a lot. We see each other every six months or so and always have a good time. I called him up to confirm our Saturday plans and he said, "Well, can you do brunch on Sunday? I know a great place that only has brunch on Sunday." I hesitated, and finally I said, "You know, Sunday is Mother's Day." J. said, sounding surprised, "Oh, is your mother coming to town?" "No," I said. Again I hesitated, because the words sounded so alien coming from my mouth. "But, you know, I'm a mother." Dead silence from his end. Finally he says, "Yeah, I just keep having problems wrapping my head around that."
Which leads me into Mother's Day. My first. And so far, I can honestly say, it's the best one I've ever had. We started the day with the Melrose Run for Women, a 3.5 mile race. I didn't have my finest mother moment that morning--I packed a breakfast for Adam to feed Doodles while I ran, but I forgot to pack a spoon, so Adam frantically drove around Melrose at 8:30 on a Sunday morning looking for someplace that had a plastic spoon. The race itself was terrific. It turned out to be a fairly cold morning, but I warmed up as soon as the race got underway (I will say that Doodles was dressed just right. I always tend to dress him more warmly than myself). I ran the beginning at what I thought was my normal running pace, and it turns out I'm a bit faster than I thought. I had been under the impression that I ran 11- or 12-minute miles. But the first three miles I was doing 10-minute miles and I pulled it out the last half mile to finish in 33:37. I know that for the majority of the running world, this is still incredibly slow, but it makes me happy that I'm starting to get back into running shape.
After breakfast, Adam and Doodles presented me with flowers, chocolates, and a c.d. I had really wanted. Doodles also made me a lovely card (and how smart is he? How many 8 1/2 month olds do you know who know how to use Photoshop?). Of course, it was really my second card from Doodles: he came home from day care on Friday with a lovely gold glitter hand print for me. His first art work. You can be sure it's already on the fridge.
The rest of the day was brunch with Adam's family at Rubin's (where I almost embarrassed myself for asking for sour cream for my potato pancakes before I remembered the meat-serving deli was kosher), dropping Tweedle Twirp off at the train station, and a nap for me! A perfect day for an almost-perfect mother (stop laughing! I said almost).
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I once actually DID embarrass myself at the 2nd Avenue Deli by asking for a glass of milk to go with my french toast...this AFTER the 70yo waitress had already barked at one of my dining companions for asking for milk for her coffee!
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