Pumping milk at 6:13 AM to address an uncomfortable engorgement situation.
The carbon monoxide alarm in our attached apartment going off at 6:42 AM despite the fact that we changed the batteries yesterday. Copious Googling and hand-wringing ensue in lieu of calling the fire department. (When we called them last year for this reason, approximately 14 ladders showed up and no carbon monoxide was detected).
Accidentally tripping our house security alarm in the process of going out to investigate the carbon monoxide alarm. Lurching simultaneously in three directions: 1. to turn off alarm, 2. to answer phone when alarm company calls to see if everything is okay and 3. checking baby video monitor to see if all this has woken up the baby (only briefly!)
Discovering that the eggs are past their expiration date and there is no more milk, both of which are necessary for the pancakes The Hubs so kindly promised. (He still made them but had to run out to the store first.)
The lovely tulips The Hubs picked up while getting pancake ingredients starting to wilt as soon as they are placed in the vase. (See above.)
While child is napping, getting embroiled in a confusing conversation about parenting philosophies, covering far too many topics, issues and new-parent anxieties from several thousand angles.
Very optimistically getting a babysitter in order to drive to Brooklyn in order to 1. Catch the last day of our friend Henry Chung’s art exhibition and 2. Visit The Clay Pot, the shop where The Hubs got the engagement and wedding ring five-ish years ago…this time in order to pick out something nice to commemorate inaugural Mother’s Day. Traffic is so bad that we have to abandon that ambitious plan and turn back toward home.
Visiting a local jewelry shop instead, but coming out empty handed. (Yes, I know, tragic: please bust out the world’s tiniest violin.)
Pulling off the road to take a look at the work of a local potter: while checking out the pottery, a medium-sized dog jumping in our car’s front window and rubbing his underparts against the straw of my formerly refreshing iced tea.
Deciding that a pedicure is the only way to turn this day around and discovering by driving around in several circles that all of the nail salons in the area are closed on Sundays.
Trying to quickly write this blog in the 24 minutes before the babysitter is due to leave and somehow erasing it then trying to frantically re-create if from memory. (If only I were kidding and just adding this one for effect…)
Okay, so my first Mother’s Day as a mom was kind of a comedy of errors, a series of fails and minor disappointments. Obviously, none of it was that bad and I have to admit that it ended on a good note:
Despite all of the above, I am feeling like a very lucky woman. Hope you had a great or even a mediocre Mother’s Day, or at least got a few chuckles about the ways it let you down?