Every day is Mother’s Day. One of the beach urchins was feeling a bit bad that she was too busy to drive the 45 minutes over here for Mother’s Day. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay! I mean there were many years of Mother’s Day when she was in college and then in SanFran. I CERTAINLY didn’t EVER expect my children to travel distances to celebrate a greeting card holiday with me. (I *know* it didn’t technically originate as a greeting card holiday but I think it has turned in to one.)

Never an enthusiastic observer of MD, I got really jaded during the years I was a youth theatre guild admin. We always had a big play production in May, when the lovely Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre wasn’t typically otherwise booked and gave us a price reduction. More often than not, our move-in day and tech rehearsal happened ON Mother’s Day. Cue up the angst. My child can’t attend the rehearsal because we’re taking grandma out to dinner yada yada yada.

I actually GET it even though I didn’t ever go to the yooperland to celebrate it with MY mother UNLESS there was another reason for going there. To me there was a disconnect. A lot of these parents wanted to celebrate the “holiday” with their own families but had no regard for the *mothers* (like me and Madame Producer) who were volunteering our time to support a high-quality acting experience for their kids. But when you are dealing with parents, you get a wide range. Some of them get excited enough to jump in with both feet and HELP make the play a success, positively supporting their own child plus *other people’s children*. Other parents are probably calling up their now 30-something kids’ bosses to ask why they aren’t getting raises/promotions or provide excuses for why a presentation was late or whatever. I hate helicopter parents at any age.

Anyway, we spent a lovely MD here at the Landfill. When jazz started up on the NPR station this morning at 10, we got into Cygnus and took a slow cruise along the back roads mostly south of town. We were heading south on Haab Road, a narrow tree-lined gravel/dirt road when at some point I realized there was a CHURCH in the middle of the road. Say what? Of course it wasn’t in the middle of the road. Not exactly. Haab Road ends at Ellsworth and the church was on Ellsworth Road.

Exactly my kind of Mother’s Day. Now that we’re outta the snow season, the [adult] kiddos can come over whenever they want to. And then there’s the moomincabin, where we can gather if the snow in the driveway ever melts.

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 8th, 2022 at 5:57 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.