I woke up on Mother’s Day without any solid plans. I had left it till the day before to invite my mom out, and she had already made plans to get together with friends. And I hadn’t heard anything yet from my son.
So I went for a run and then had a shower and then, in a rare spontaneous burst of femininity, I got dressed up in a short summery skirt and top and even put on some jewelry. I’m funny about dressing up. I find it stressful to *have* to get dressed up, but sometimes I just suddenly feel like it for no good reason, and then I really like it.
After that, I just went about my day, doing a little housework, drinking coffee, reading, playing scrabble and scramble, stuff like that. And I waited for my son to call. Maybe he’d forgotten it was Mothers Day. Maybe I should go to his place and hammer on his door and say “Hey, it’s mother’s day, let’s go do something!”
I had a nice philosophical chat with myself about Hallmark holidays and things you should and should not do to yourself and/or your children.
I was also thinking about perspective, because a friend of mine’s mom died unexpectedly the day before mother’s day, and another friend recently lost her mother-in-law. I reminded myself that being a mother and having a mother are much more important than having a day about being a mother or having a mother.
I agreed with myself 100%, but I still hoped James would call.
And of course he did! He invited me out for patio beers at Daniel O’Connell’s, which was perfect because it was perfect patio weather and I love the musicians who jam there on Sunday afternoons.
So off I went, and we drank beers and ate a club sandwich and talked and listend to music and it was a Most Excellent Afternoon on the patio with my son. In addition to loving him more than anything, I really like my son. His father and I, when we get together, still marvel at how we hit the genetic jackpot with James, and how he is the unique and unlikely combination of the very best of both of us.
Something interesting happened too. It’s funny how something interesting always happens, isn’t it? We’re sitting drinking beers on the patio, and some guy drives up and locks his bike to the fence right beside me. Six inches from me. Tied to the back of his bike is a package of chicken breasts.
“But what about your chicken?” I asked him, “Do you think it’s safe?”
“I thought about that,” he replied, “but you don’t look like a fox to me.”
Then he changed his mind and said maybe I did look like a fox, and I thanked him for the compliment and we both laughed.
He left that chicken there for an hour or so, just sitting out in the sun, while he drank beer wine. I was reminded of Janet’s beef.
“You’re not worried about the chicken going bad?” I asked when he returned to his bike.
“Nope,” he replied cheerfully, “My mama always said you’ve got to eat a peck of dirt.”
(There was more to that, but I’d had a couple of beers by then, and I can’t remember the rest…sorry.)
“You know,” I said, “I have no choice but to blog your chicken.”
Then he pulled out a business card and gave it to me, so I could send him the link.
And you know who he turned out to be? Justin Wonnacott, the Somerset Street photographer! I’m not even kidding!
(He seems like a super-nice guy, but if you’re ever invited to his place for dinner, don’t say I didn’t warn you.)
Okay. Back to Mothers Day. I got tagged by MudMama for a mothering meme today. Basically I was asked to describe three things I’m good at in the mothering department.
I decided to ask my son, since he’s the expert on my mothering strengths and weaknesses. I sent him an email, described the assignment, and apologized if it sounded like I was fishing for compliments.
He sent the sweetest reply back. It put a huge goofy smile on my face and it made my day so I’m going to post it here. (Maybe it’s tacky to go fishing for compliments and then post them on your blog, but so what.)
Hey Mom,
I think you’re good at pretty much everything as a parent… it’d be a
lot easier to answer if you were good at some things and bad at others
😛You instilled some good morals in me, I was well loved, well fed,
disciplined, had pets and toys, etc… Plus you’re smart and down to
earth, so I know I can always go to you for good advice.You’re basically the perfect parent, nobody could ask for better
Love ya lots,
James
TAGS:
1. Your son seems very lovely. Good job on that one!
2. Eating dirt is probably not as bad for you as eating chicken that’s been sitting on the back of someone’s bike for an hour.
3. “I have no choice but to blog your chicken” is an excellent, excellent line.
J.
In the name of journalistic accuracy and confirming sources here are the details about what my mother spake …. “Justin you have to eat a peck of dirt before you die”. She was a nurse ( and never let me forget it!) so I am completely convinced that this was just a paraphrase in layman’s terms of her broad medical know how. IE “you need to build your immune system and develop antibodies on the road to oblivion if you want to be hale , hearty and happy son.” She taught me well – the last time I had food poisoning was when I ate an uncleaned Bass I had caught for breakfast the day after ( I was about 10 . . . ) since then I have danced with Mr Ptomaine but never succumbed. Life is good.
Nonetheless, I was well aware that my chicken was racing the clock so I embalmed it in the spiciest curry I could. You would have liked it I am sure.
Thank you for guarding it from chicken predators while I enjoyed my wine.
Justin Wonnacott
Congrats on the lovely Mother’s Day! Mine was pretty good, too, even if I did have to work all day. And your son- he’s a keeper!
your son sounds lovely – just like mine
My grandmother was a “peck of dirt” woman too. She told me not to wash everything the baby threw on the floor before I gave it back (ie pacifiers) because the baby had to get used to germs or would be a mess for it’s whole life. And you know what, all three of my girls are strong and healthy and are rarely sick. Maybe I need to go out and eat some dirt….
People used to hang their linens out in the sun to bleach and disinfect them, so I see no reason why the same principles wouldn’t apply to chicken.
I actually do agree that exposing kids to dirt is good for them, and protecting them from every germ is bad for them, especially if it involves the liberal use of toxic cleaning products. I’m not AS convinced that children can benefit from a little exposure to a little salmonella…
Justin! Thanks for dropping by, and also for reminding me of the forgotten second half of your mama’s wise words. I’m so pleased to hear you survived your chicken dinner. Oh, and thank you too for sending me that fish. It was delicious.
Jo, Sheila, Nursemyra – thank you – he really is wonderful.
By the way – you see the foggy bits in all of the photos? That was Duncan’s mother’s day present to me – he licked my lens.
Awww, now you’re gonna have to get your son something really nice for his birthday and for Christmas and for, um, son’s day (well, if there were one…)!
I hope my two sons will have something similar to say about me one day.
I do believe they should be cloning your son…en masse. We could use a few more like him!
I love this post.
I have no choice but to blog your chicken is an excellent line. I can only hope I have occasion to use it.
I am available for stud services.
You see? He’s not only wonderful and lovely and well brought up, he’s thoughtful and generous too.
What a handsome, sweet son you have, Zoom… but I must decline his generous offer… I have a rule, “If was old enough to change their diapers at some point, I don’t date them!”
I am sure that there are many young women out their who will take him up on his offer… start knitting those booties!
a lovely son AND a lovely cat (AND beer) – Zoom, you are lucky!