Mother's Day Just Isn't Enough
Before I begin, I must congratulate Bastette the Sponsette on 6 months of continuous sobriety. I had the honour of being there when she picked up her six month chip at a 12 step meeting last night. All I could think of was how incredibly awesome I am for being her sponsor and getting her to this point. Good on me. What a shining example of sobriety I am. You, too, can be as put together as I am while recovering from addictions.
Okay, I'm totally kidding. Well, sort of kidding. The goal is to be more together than I am (not that hard, really), and I think she will be. She's a strong cookie and I'm grateful to not only be her sponsor, but also her friend. Congratulations, Bastette.
We had another friend with us last night as well, who's just starting her journey in recovery. It was her first day sober and it was raw and honest. I remember being there and having some very supportive people around me. It doesn't seem like nearly eighteen years ago. It must be because I'm old and time blurs together. Soon I'll be shaking my cane at people and using terms like "Back in my day..."
Ew.
As we sat at the meeting last night, I realized that all three of us are mothers. We all have little gremlins underfoot and thus have a much greater responsibility to get and stay sober than the average joe. Or joelle. Or whatever you want to call the female version of joe. And then I realized just how fitting it was to be sitting there on the eve of Mother's Day.
And then I felt better about getting totally spoiled by my husband on Friday night, when he took me out for a coffee.
And a hot pink iPod Nano.
And a sweet docking station for it with some awesome speakers so I can listen to music in the kitchen without hauling in the laptop or wearing headphones (very dangerous to be without one of the senses with gremlins trolling the house).
I've concluded that I deserved those gifts. I gave life to three horned ones. I take newly sober moms to meetings. I... I.. Do other stuff, too. Lots of stuff. Like the dishes.
So happy
In truth, I don't think we get enough appreciation for the "lots of stuff" we do. We need more than just a single day to recognize all the hard work we put into our families. Naturally, I've come up with some suggestions:
Sock Sorters Appreciation Day
Does anyone realize how much time actually goes into pairing up socks? If I were to add up every awful t.v. show I've sat through while painstakingly checking for holes, matching and then rolling them together, I'd have a year's worth of quality Fox programming. The people who make sure one's sock drawer runneth over should get flowers every week. Just sayin'.
Mad Market Marathon Dashers' Day
Hats off to every mother who makes the late night trip to the store in order to buy granola bars for tomorrow's lunch boxes. So much about late night grocery store or pharmacy visits relies on absolute precision: Scanning one's brain to locate the closest 24hr store, making sure there's enough fuel in the vehicle to get there and back (and if there isn't, then heading to the closest en-route gas station), avoiding overnight construction-related lane closures, and, most importantly, remembering to do a little makeup touch up in the rearview mirror before heading in with the reusable shopping bags - a girl may be disorganized, but she doesn't have to look it.
Mad Scientist Information Week
Sure, it's easy to cook on grocery day; with a ride range of availability from all major food groups any sucker can throw a meal together. But what about the night before payday when the cupboards are all but bare? That takes the work of someone who's not all together. Only someone with a little crazy and a lot of experience (or is that the other way around?) can make a can of chick peas, some leftover pickles and an egg into something the entire family will eat.
I didn't say 'enjoy'. I said 'eat'. If they're hungry enough they'll eat anything, you know. I have proven this a few times with concoctions from my
Toddler Recuperation Specialist Awareness Month
Toddler + busy parking lot + bags of groceries = a frighteningly quick learning experience. Someone should be putting money away for the heart transplant I'm going to need. This particular act takes years off a life.
That and consuming copious amounts of chocolate while watching late night movies, but I'd rather blame the scary parenting experiences.
See? We're cheated out of many days of recognition. One just isn't enough. I suppose it will have to do until I become World President and make everyone bow to my will. For now, go hug your mom or someone else's mom or buy me some stuff. Regularly.
Happy Mother's Day.