Sunday, May 8, 2011

Happy Mother

The Boys, Christmas 2010
Yesterday was this kind of day:


I'm slammed at work, and my allergies are kicking in, and the weather has jumped straight from covering-up-the-tomatoes-at-night to heat rash (what the heck, Mother Nature?). Yesterday's special sauce on my pile-o'-poo life sandwich was that I found something I desperately wanted to buy, and the dollars for that purchase are absolutely not in the budget picture.

Yes, it's a big-ticket item, so it would have been a stretch in the best of times. But even though they are brilliant and hard-working and largely paying their own way, having four Boys in college at the same time is not an inconsequential expense. A rational adult would look at that big-ticket item, say, "Gosh, that's too bad," and move on.

Yesterday I was not a rational adult. My inner child (who is kind of a brat) stomped her feet and stuck her fingers in her ears so she couldn't hear the voice of reason and wailed "But I waaaaaant it!"

So I pouted for a while, then sat down to work on some of the previously-mentioned job slammage. (I know! Saturday night! How bad can this get?)

At that moment my instant-messaging popped onto my computer screen. It was Boy#4. "Hey, Mom! My calculus final wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I'll see you in less than a week!"

Then Boy#1's I-M window lit up. He knew I'd have the Royals game on for white noise, and would have heard a young phenom hit his first major league single. "Message to Eric Hosmer: RETIRE NOW," One wrote.

I laughed and went back to my editing but as I deleted commas and sorted out composes and comprises, I was thinking of what a great time it is for college students, who are emerging from the tunnel of finals week shading their eyes and blinking at the sunlight. I remembered that one of the reasons I am behind at work is because I had chosen to take a half-day off so that we could hear Boy#3 in a fabulous concert, and because I'll miss more days to see Boy#2 graduate from college next week.

And I realized that while I had been poor-me'ing about the THING I couldn't buy I was distracting myself from the appreciating the poverty imposed by the four doofuses who keep me penniless but rich.

Happy Mother's Day, Boys. You're worth it.

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