My First Mom's Day

To celebrate my first Mother's Day, Benjamin and Vince took me out to breakfast. I marked the occasion by attempting to put all my pregnancy weight back on and ordering half the menu. As the waitress brought me my crab cakes, eggs benedict, fried potatoes, waffles and coffee, she smiled and said, "Happy Mother's Day." That's when it hit me: Holy Sh*t. I really am a mother. There's nothing like being on the receiving end of all those cutesy Hallmark cards, poems, and flowers to really drive motherhood home. And just in case that wasn't enough, Benjamin further reinforced my new role by vomiting in my hair and then farting on me while I changed his diaper.

I had already opened my Mother's Day gift of a new camera from Benjamin several weeks ago. Vince told me that Benjamin "felt bad about breaking my old camera." Quick backstory: In the hospital when my OB told Vince to get his camera ready because the baby was about to be born, he reacted by freaking out and dropping the camera on the operating room floor. In any case, I ignored the fact that Vince was scapegoating an innocent and have been using the camera ad nauseum. But so I would have something to enjoy on Mother's Day itself, Vince asked me if there was anything special I'd like to do. I told him with complete honesty that I would love for him to watch Benjamin all day long so I could do some laundry and clean the house. I'm one of those anal-retentive types for whom clutter equals claustrophia and mess equals stress, so I wanted nothing more than to spend the day vacuuming, dusting, cleaning, mopping, and organizing. At first Vince pouted at my request, because he had been looking forward to spending his day playing Grand Theft Auto IV, but he soon came up with a solution. I hope Vince realizes that he is the one who will have some explaining to do when one day Benjamin asks, "Why are those ladies hugging those poles?"