Saturday, Part I

The alarm went off at 7am. On a Saturday morning. Man, I hate it when our weekends start so darn early.

I ran around getting little girls dressed for the Mother/Daughter breakfast at our church. We had Emile's sleepover last night, so I had three extra little bodies in the house. They all looked beautiful, by the way. We dropped Maggie off at 8:30, as she was 'adopted' by a friend that only has boys. When we got to church, Gret and Jordan also left my side, and went to find their adoptive moms.

Basically, that left me with Em and her friends. Then Em decided she wanted to be adopted too, so she ditched me as well. Hmph. Now I'm at a Mother Daughter breakfast with no mother and no daughters, feeling a LOT lonely. Luckily, Em's friends stuck by my side.

It was a beautiful breakfast, as usual. The men cooked great food. The women didn't have to do anything. Well, as long as you don't count setting up the tables, and decorating, anything. Not all of the women helped with those things, of course. Like me. I didn't help. I went right home last night because of the slumber party. I was a slacker. But I *really* appreciated how pretty everything was when I got there this morning. Until all my girls left me. But I'm not bitter. Not at all.

Everything was going ok until it was time to give testimonies. Normally, I would let everyone else take their turn before I ever even thought of standing up to speak. Normally. But today, something made me want to take my turn as well. Now for any of you that know me, you know how much I HATE talking in front of people. I can handle small groups, I'm great one-on-one. But crowds....?? Not so much. Well, I just had to tell these women a few things.

Of course, I started off by crying. I mean, I don't think I got three words out when the tears started to flow. I just couldn't help it. I told them how hard these Mother/Daughter things are for me, because I lost my mom. I explained how difficult it is to raise daughters when you can't just call up your mommy and ask questions. And I encouraged them to go home and call their moms and tell them how much they loved them. So often, we forget to do that. Then one day, we don't have that chance anymore. And you have to live wondering if you said "I love you" and "Thank you for everything" enough times. Well, at least *I* do.

The breakfast was over by 11am. Then I headed over to Kari's house for the bridal shower. I was supposed to help decorate, but ended up running to the store to get plastic forks. Don't ask. So the shower that was supposed to start at 2 and be over by 3:30 didn't actually start until almost 3pm. You guessed it, I barely got out of there at 4:45.

Kim was supposed to head up to Baltimore with me. Kim has a head cold. Kim cancelled the trip that I have been looking forward to all week. I decided to just go home. I was tired, since I'd been up half the night and gotten up early. I was emotionally drained, after the whole Mother/Daughter thing. I was depressed, since Kim didn't feel like heading up to Baltimore, and I really didn't want to drive all that way alone.

So home I drove. Feeling sorry for myself. I even cried, thinking about how much I really wanted to see Jenny Crusie and Bob Mayer, and meet a CherryBomb named Christina. I couldn't think of a worse Mother's Day weekend, unless you counted the first one after my Mom died. Truly horrible.

Do you feel sorry for me? Well, you shouldn't.
Now go call your mom and tell her how much you love her, ok? Do it for me, since I can't call mine. NOW. Do it.