Mother Of The Year

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About
15 women in my mom’s group have come down with the stomach bug that has
been sweeping through Denver.  I had it last weekend, and Raines has it
now.  Mine lasted less than 24 hours, Raines is going on 48.  Ugh.  The
key difference?  I’ve had my flu shot, Raines has not.  Why did I wait
to get his flu shot?  Well, I wanted to first make sure it was OK (by
getting one myself)…and then the plan was to go back in a couple of
days later.  But then….I had shopping to do, cards to address, etc. 
GUILT. GUILT. GUILT.  My son is missing his flu shot because I was
shopping.  Lovely.

We
do the best we can.  Really.  But there are some days that I feel like
a total novice, a blithering idiot, or simply, a bad mum.  Or, as my
friend Erin sarcastically calls herself, “Mother of the Year!”.  She
uses this handy phrase after she’s let her twins watch TV for 3 hours
straight.  Exactly my sentiment.  When Raines cried all night for 3
nights until I FINALLY realized he was teething? (“He’s drooling, has
diarrhea, is biting everything in site and crying constantly!  Hmmm…I
just can’t figure it out!”) Mother of the year!  When I lost my mind
and  let him play with a butter knife in a restaurant?  Mother of the
year!  And when Raines was coming down with croup and I took him to the
playground and he fell asleep on the swing while I chatted on the phone
with a friend?  (see photo above) Yup…you guessed it:  Mother of the
year!

I
love when the Mother of the year sentiment comes from other mothers. 
It usually comes from older women, whose kids are long gone, who have
obviously forgotten that it is impossible to keep socks and shoes on a
baby.  Unless they made socks better in “those days”.  I wish I had a
dollar for everytime some old lady has come up to me, “Where are his
shoes?”  “Where are his socks?”.  Haven’t you heard?  I’m Mother of the
year!  Now leave me alone.  ps. He’s a HOT baby.  He kicks them off.

My
most embarrassing Mother of the Year moment came recently at my first
cookie exchange.  I attempted to make my mom’s Christmas Cut-out
Cookies…but she couldn’t find her recipes in time.  So I googled,
found one that was close, spent two days baking (with Raines “helping”
– see previous blog about green sprinkles in his diaper).  I topped
those cookies with a rich cream cheese frosting (BAD NEWS), and went to
the cookie exchange.  I opened my box of cookies and found…a soggy
mess.  The frosting was too heavy for the cookies and gave them the
consistency of a soggy potato chip.  I was horrified.  I looked at the
table of cookies, and instead of the usual rice-crispy treat crap, the
other women all brought these amazing, labor intensive cookies.  They
were BEAUTIFUL.  I evaluated my options:  had anyone seen me come in
with these cookies?  Only a couple of people…perhaps I could pitch
them off the balcony?  Just then, Bethany, the host, announced that we
were going to go around the room, describe our cookies and explain why
we chose them.  Oh GOOD LORD.  And to make matters worse, I was one of
the only two stay at home moms in the room.  Most of the other girls
were medical residents working 80+ hours a week.  And baking incredible
cookies in their spare time.   When it came to my turn, I was beet red,
and choked out something that sounded like an apology. Becky was
chortling behind me, “Suckers,” she said.  “They worked all night to
make those beautiful cookies and they get to take home yours!”  We both
started snorting with laughter.  Oh well — I poured myself another
drink.  Stay-at-home Mother of the Year!!

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