Guilt is regret for what we've done; Regret is guilt for what we didn't do. And "Guilty" is a duet with Barbara Streisand and Barry Gibb (the cute Gibb brother; after Andy, that is) in which Barry wears WHITE SATIN JEANS. Tight. White. Satin. Jeans. But I digress...
The first thing that I felt guilty about this week was that I flew to Fort Lauderdale for a single evening to celebrate my dear friend Robert's birthday. In addition to my carry on, my baggage included Blame, Remorse and a pocket full of Shame; having waved my Jet Blue ticket in the face of work deadlines, family matters and financial concerns.
The second thing I felt guilty about is that I flew all that way to celebrate his big day and somewhere between New York and Florida, contracted a temporary case of Tourettes. This syndrome is certainly the reason why I spent a large part of Robert's birthday talking at length about how now that he was "of a certain age" he ABSOLUTELY MUST HAVE A COLONOSCOPY OR HE MAY DIE TOMORROW. Colonoscopy, Colonoscopy, Colonoscopy; like I had channeled Katie Couric. That's all I had to say over dinner and dessert. That and this...
ME: I should look better for having a gay friend like you. All my other friends who have gays look WAY BETTER than me. You don't even take me shoe shopping.
ROBERT: Excuse me? (except I think he said it like Excuzem-moi)
ME: You have been my gay friend for a gazillion years. So Why am I NOT FABULOUS? The least you could have done is teach me how to wear false eyelashes.
At which point Robert reminded me that he had offered ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS to take me for a COMPLETE MAKEOVER but I always had something to do-or some better way of doing something. He pointed out that he was eager to accompany me to an appointment with the Premiere Eyebrow Shaper in all of New York--but I had insisted that I had come up with a genius method of dealing with my two bushy brows. This method involved shaving instead of plucking, and for a while I was quite happy substituting my Lady Bic for a pair of tweezers--until the hair on my brows began to grow down and over my very eyelids... at which point I went to a Korean nail salon to get them waxed, and the technician called all the other girls in just to see.
Third thing I feel guilty about: because I fell behind at work, Sexyhusbandomine offered to take The Spawn to the beach for the weekend and allow me to take two days to focus on projects that are overdue. This would have been a wonderful thing, had not CBoy come down with a fever of 102 and started vomiting at around nine o clock that night. Luckily, in between ice chips CBoy was able to phone me, and ask me "WHERE ARE YOU MOMMMMMMMY AND WHY AREN'T YOU HERE WHEN I NEED YOU I NEED YOU MOMMMMY MY STOMACH HURTS MOMMMMMMMMY.....AND I THINK I AM GOING TO THROW UP AGAIN..." Me Too. Because nobody knows how to fold a washcloth and get it just the right temperature for the forehead like Mommy. And I am Not. There.
And lastly, a day later, Sexyhusbanomine sent me a video. Today was the first time CBoy has ridden a bike without training wheels, and not being there is akin to missing his first steps. I am assuming the MOTHER OF THE YEAR trophy is on its way. Which is good-I will fill it with wine and then CRY INTO IT.
It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. Oscar Wilde. (Also a gay man who probably helped his gayelles look fabulous. I'm just sayin.)
17 comments:
I absolve thee, Terrible Mother and Middling Gayelle! The kid, the deadlines and the budget just won a 12-pack of SUCKIT!
Said she who has accomplished not one of the things on her to do list this weekend.
Am loving you dear one ... the guilt of motherhood is second to none ... and you wear it soooo well - who needs a complete make over - not you !! xoxo
I might feel bad (probably would )about not seeing the maiden voyage on his two-wheeler, but the tummy upset...not so much. But that's just me.
Okay, send me your address and I'll mail you the "Bad MOmmy" crown.
You'll have to share it though and mail it to the next person who needs it.
Hope CBoy is better, that he proudly shows off his new skill to you, and that you go with your fab friend for a brow shaping soon. ''
Then have a glass of whine/wine and fuggedaboutit. :-)
Barry Gibb in those pants. So. Freaking. HOT.
Aww, if anyone deserves a getaway, Mommy deserves a getaway. Ditch the guilt.
But do go for an expert eyebrow shaping--always worth it, IMO. :)
I think I had you on my flight! :-)
♥
L
The best advice I got when I was a new mother, although from quite the psycho friend of mine was to 'feel guilty for five minutes' and then be done. I actually use that phrase because we certainly can be hard on ourselves. Plus theres nothing like a weekend with a gay friend in Florida critiqueing our eyebrows. The deadlines will be there and SHO Yours can show you how great CBoy has mastered the bike thing since the men had their bonding experience over the accomplishment and you and TBananna will have a few of your own- now have a glass of good wine and tell me when you are coming to Dallas....we must drink soon.
Thank you. First laugh I've had today. And I really needed it, too.
Guilt is my middle name, sister. So, if you ever feel like going on a trip together - we could be a fun bunch.
pogonip: you are RIGHT! But then I felt guilty for secretly feeling HAPPY about missing out on the throw up. Ah, a vicious cycle indeed.
SJenny: you are ALSO RIGHT! What am I doing obsessing about these things when I could be tHINKING ABOUT THOSE PANTS. Or Richard Gere. Or Johnny Depp. Or those guys in THOSE pants. Hmmm. Feeling better already.
BJ: Let's wait for something like...oh, I don't know-maybe Bananna's graduation or something like that for me to book a trip to see you. And if she throws up while I am in Dallas, well hehehehe--see above.
THE REST OF YOU GUYS: Are officially some of the nicest people in cyberspace today. I continue to heart you. Do these jeans make me look fat?
You are a riot. A riot! With the guilt and the gayelles.
And, according to another blog I read, Robert is not your "gay"; he's your "personal gay."
Thank you.
~Deesha
As a REAL LIVE MINISTER, who has married Real Married People and therefore has REAL JEEBUS POWER, I absolve thee.
Because you know, who really rememebers anything from when they were in second grade? I know I don't. If Cboy remembers you weren't there, just remember that you were. As the adult, your memory trumps his. Just saying. history belongs to the historian.
I think you are also feeling guilty for feeling guilty, no?
First, speaking as someone who does not have childcren so of course I am an expert, I am proud of you for not over-funtioning and allowing sexy husband to deal with the Cboy travails. It is good training for both of them. Second, if I had the chance to fly off to
Este Lauderdale and visit my "personal gay" (I am not hip enough to have one, though) I would be on the plane before you could even say phukmepumps.
Stop worrying and start drinking, Lovey. Even Clara Bow took a break now and then. Remember, guilt is the gift that keeps on giving. Let someone else contribute for a change.
Oops, I meant Clara Barton. Oh well, Clara Bow was apparently a party girl, so I guess my advice still stands.
Come to think of it, forget the Red Cross. You need Red Wine.
Oh honey, we all need a day off, sometimes. I often wonder if the children choose those days to get sick just to spite us! He'll forgive you. And I am sure that he will give you the opportunity to clean up his barf someday in the future.(Lord knows what kind of crud runs rampant around those classrooms!)
And if what I am missing is "a gay" to make me look fabulous, then I want one now! Will you share Robert with me? He sounds like a wonderful friend if he is worth traveling to Florida for.
Hugs,
Deb
Guilt is regret for what we've done; Regret is guilt for what we didn't do.
is a quotation not something you wrote.
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