my low point…

I think today qualified as one of the real low points in my mothering career:  I FORGOT it was Youngest’s birthday. 

I’ll give you a moment to digest how bad that is. 

Go ahead.  Judge me.  I deserve it.

I could come to my own defense. I could tell you that he and his Dad are in Chicago and that his birthday present is tickets to a Bear’s game which is tomorrow and that led me to the think somehow that tomorrow is the big day.

Not.

Also, I had just woken up.  From a bad night’s sleep.  And I hadn’t had my tea yet.  I was barely awake, for God’s sake.

And not only that, he was not particularly friendly when I called.  Come to think of it, he kinda gave me the Heisman…
Heisman34438

"Hey," I said when he answered the phone.  "What are you guys doing?"

"Mom," he answered, "his voice even more filled with barely restrained disgust, "it is nine-thirty in the morning."

I was hurt.  He clearly didn’t want to talk to me.  At moments like this, I can feel reduced to something that bears a strong resemblance to a once -beloved but now outgrown stuffed animal. Its horrible to feel as if my usefulness has come to an end.

It stings, that feeling.

"OK, well, can I talk with your Dad."

"Aren’t you even going to wish me Happy Birthday?"

As Oldest would say, "AHHHHHHHHHH."

I have to consider the possibility that I might have been unconsciously trying to hurt him, to make him see I matter after all.  I hate considering that possibility. 

Recently, when I suggested something of this nature to Youngest, he replied earnestly, "Well, if that is that is true, I didn’t do it CONSCIOUSLY."

Neither did I, my baby, neither did I. 

And I am so sorry.

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6 thoughts on “my low point…

  1. Oh, anna. When it’s the day (or week) of reckoning, he’ll remember years and years of attention, not one moment of inattention.
    Promise.
    But I think I understand how you feel, and I’m sorry.
    xxoo

  2. Well, you didn’t actually forget his birthday — the whole day hadn’t gone by or anything — I’m sure you would have remembered at some point 🙂
    My mother forgot my birthday once…I think I was 37. I kind of expected a call all day, but it didn’t come until the next day — she was so mortified, and I did forgive her. Really.

  3. There there.
    He won’t hold this against you as much as you hold it against yourself. My father forgot my birthday once when I was in my 20’s. I’ve forgiven. It’s actually kind of funny now.

  4. Thanks Alesia. I guess there is something in having a child be in a position to forgive the parent early on – it is a kind of power, I suppose. And I would put good money down on the eventuality that there will be stuff that is more serious than this that I hope he’ll forgive me for!

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