What is more painful than spending several hours writing a blog post only to finish it, save it, open it up one final time for a last minute skim, click “X” to close it and then have your computer ask you if you want to save any changes before exiting?
And you didn’t make any changes?
So you click “no?”
It’s when you computer says “You got it!” and then proceeds to delete the entire blog post from your hard drive and, by association, your memory.
Then again, it might be ten hours of back labor right before having an emergency c-section.
I think they’re pretty comparable.
So instead of the post I originally intended for today, a post which, I might add, was insightful, thought-provoking and verging on Pulitzer territory and you’ll just have to take my word on that because, well, YOU HAVE NO CHOICE, I’m going to write about how my family celebrated me on Mother’s Day because it is insightful, thought-provoking and verging on Pulitzer territory as well.
Humor me. I just had a 3,875 word blog post go *poof* in mid air and it’s awfully hard to type while curled up in a fetal position under my chair.
Helena gave me breakfast in bed, which consisted of a toasted bagel thin and orange juice and the best part was that she waited until 8:30 a.m., to serve it to me and for that I gave her a big kiss, stinky breath and all, and she didn’t even protest by gagging and washing her face with Listerine. Nate gave me a dozen beautiful red roses and Zoe came home that morning with a bouquet of gorgeous flowers as well so I cut them all down to the same size and placed them all in the same vase and proved to the world that I will never make it big in the floral arrangement industry.
By the way, just to clarify … I cut down the flowers, not Nate or Zoe. I wouldn’t do that! Not unless I was provoked or something.
Then they presented me with a gift card to one of the nicest salons in the area, with enough value on the card to cover services for all three of us and when I say “all three of us” I mean Zoe, Helena and me as the closest Nate ever gets to a salon is when he gets his hair buzzed at Super Cuts and that’s only because they happen to be located right next door to one.
I then discovered that a salon gift card was Helena’s idea and that Zoe had earlier that week spent the better part of one day calling every salon in our area, trying to find one that could schedule all three of us for Mother’s Day pedicures and as it turns out, this task is so difficult, I’m thinking of proposing it as a roadblock for the next Amazing Race. Ultimately, she was successful with Scott Miller Salon, except that instead of Mother’s Day pedicures, we’ll be enjoying FIRST WEEK OF JUNE? SERIOUSLY? THAT’S THE EARLIEST OPENING YOU’VE GOT? FINE. WE’LL TAKE IT pedicures.
I admit, I got a little emotional over the fact that both my girls were so involved in my Mother’s Day gift and chose to do something which includes all three of us. With our schedules, it’s not often we spend quality time together that doesn’t consist of inhaling dinner and hastily throwing stuff into the car so as to get one of them from Point A to Point B in the fastest time possible while getting the other one to Point C before it closes.
I look at my flowers and gift card and get the warm fuzzies and almost forget about my 850 stretch marks.
Then Helena gave me a card she made for me in school. In case you can’t read it:
Dear Mom, You are like a fluffy white cloud. I love when we are together and we bond. When you tell jokes, it makes me laugh. I love how you tell me stories. I look up to you because you are a role model. I never told you this but I miss you at school a lot. You always seem to love me, you never hate me. I will always remember how you told me you loved me a bunch, forever and ever. Thanks for everything you do for me. I love you mom. Love, Helena.
Stretch marks? What stretch marks?