Ironically at about the same time last year, I went a little
MIA on the blog in the month of May.
It happens.
Since Mother’s Day I have had several thoughts in the back
of my mind, and wanted to wish all those mothers out there a Happy Mother’s Day,
but where is the time?
In the UAE, I usually forget the “American” Mother’s Day by
the time it rolls around as we have already celebrated the Arab Mother’s Day
as well as the British Mother’s Day - both in March, and just a week or so
apart. The concept is the same, so
I don’t think there are any major differences. Maybe this is part of a Halmark global strategy?
Erin’s school had a picnic for moms on the British version –
it just kind of crept up. This enhances my chance to miss the American Mother’s Day, which is
also recognized in Turkey.
Mother’s Day in the US is on a Sunday, and since that is the
first day of the work week here, it easily gets lost in the shuffle of the day. The US is starting to wake up
around 5pm my time, so a lot of clutter hits my brain and does not always filter out before that time. This year I did not recall it until
much later in the day.
My typical Mother’s Day started with an early wake up call
by an excited boy who wanted to finish his new lego ambulance. Very tired from working late on
something the night before, I got up, got some coffee and sat down for an early
breakfast with intricate lego pieces and directions in tow. Not quite finished, I had to negotiate
to jump in the shower and get ready.
I then prepared the snack and lunch for school, got Erin dressed and all
those other minor, but necessary details required to drop him off at school on
my way to work.
Get to the car, forgot my telephone, went back to get it,
back in car and off we went. Get
to work and the craziness of the week begins, finish this project, start that
one, oh and can you also pick up this idea too. Emails, conference calls, etc, etc. A call from the school nurse. Erin didn’t feel well so they checked
and he had a fever. If we give him
medicine he has to go home, if not he can stay (per policy). What? Tons of work to do and people to see, but I cannot let him
suffer.
Pack up. Pick up sick boy. Go home. Let
him rest in front of the TV while I continue to work at home. More work, but do this, do that, clean
this, wash this, get dinner, bathe boy, etc, etc, the usual drills. In the evening I recall it’s Mother’s
Day so we should have called Turkey much earlier and need to call the US now. At this point I really hope that I can
stay awake long enough to speak to everyone on the phone as my coffee dose wore
off long ago.
My mother asks me if we did anything special for Mother’s
Day. I’m not really sure how I should
answer. Every day is special, but
I think I happily spend Mother’s Day just like I do any other day – being a
mom.
Happy Belated Mother’s Day to all you moms out there.
