I think that this Mother’s Day will probably be the most bittersweet and saddest for me. Mother’s Day this year is actually moving day for #3, my baby. Yes, my baby is leaving the nest, flying the coop, getting the heck out of dodge…. Whatever you choose to call it, it all boils down to the same thing. She won’t be living here anymore and I’m sure I’m going to have a rough few days. It’s hard when any of them leave but there’s something about the baby leaving. My hubby seriously had a panic attack when he found out she was moving. But we will get over it and we will grow and evolve and get through it.
The other “worst” Mother’s Day as I recall was right after #2 was born. As some of you may recall from previous blogs, we moved to Georgia from New Orleans, LA right after #2 was born. Hubby procured our duplex and went back to New Orleans to get our furniture and I flew to Virginia to “recuperate” with a 19 month old and a 6 day old baby! I was supposed to stay for 2 weeks while hubby got us all moved in and unpacked. I had never seen our place so I had no idea where we were going to be living or anything about it.
Looking back on it, I guess I had a touch of post partum depression, or as we called it back then, “the new baby blues”. I was 500 miles away from my husband and missing him terribly. I had a terribly emotional flight from Georgia to Virginia with delayed planes and cancelled flights, etc. I had NO idea where we were going to be living and had never had to entrust hubby with that type of responsibility before and quite honestly did not know if he was up to the task.
For the first time in our married life, he had to set up bank accounts, get water, phone and electricity turned on, etc. etc. and I wasn’t quite sure how it was all going to work out so there was a lot of anxiety of the unknown factored in. Hubby was in a new city in a new restaurant with a new boss, trying to make a name for himself with his company, working long hours so I only got to talk to him usually once a day. Since he works in hospitality, Mother’s Day is always a REALLY busy day for them. That is usually their busiest day of the year and he is always exhausted at the end of a Mother’s Day.
We have always ended our telephone conversations with “I love you’s” and always, whoever says I love you first, the other one always responds with “I love you MORE.” Always…. Well, there’s a first time for everything and that’s not always a GOOD thing. This night, I was feeling particularly lonely and blue and missing my hubby and it was MOTHER’S DAY for crying out loud and my husband had not only NOT sent me flowers or a card or ANYTHING…. He hadn’t even said “Happy Mother’s Day” and I had just given birth to his child a week before!
So, acting like a spoiled petulant child, when he said “I love you” at the end of our conversation, I just had to throw in there “Yeah, sure… I don’t THINK so….” PLEASE TAKE NOTE: When you are speaking to a man who has worked a 16+ hour day ON his feet all day on the busiest day of the year and you are 500 miles away…. THOSE are NOT the words he wants to hear. His reaction was NOT what I was expecting. Spoiled rotten wife mother person that I was being, I was expecting him to say “Oh, what’s wrong honey? What did I do?” Instead what I got was “WHAT did you just say to me?” Now at this point, any SANE woman would have back tracked so fast she would have fallen over herself and said, “Oh, never mind honey, I love you MORE.” NO… I was SO obviously NOT being a sane person because stupid me repeated what I said the first time! WRONG ANSWER!!!
He SLAMMED the phone down so hard it about busted my ear drum! Now, here is where the chance, coincidence, comedy of bad errors and timing comes in…. I immediately try to call him back. No answer…. I redial. No answer. At first I’m thinking he’s just pissed and so I give him a few minutes to calm down and I call him back AGAIN….. no answer. You have to remember that this is back in the days of NO cell phones. Then I think …well…. Maybe he went ot the bathroom so I’ll give him a few more minutes. . . . . . I call back again. NO ANSWER. Now I’m MAD…. He hadn’t set up our answering machine yet so I can’t even leave him a message. So, I start calling back every 3 to 5 minutes. NO ANSWER. NOW I’m pissed AND exhausted. I literally sit up ALL night long trying to call him, crying my eyes out.
By this time I’m alternately pissed and scared to death. I literally didn’t even know our address. I couldn’t even call the police to go make sure he was okay, not that they would have checked, but, I didn’t even know what area of Atlanta we lived in! All I had was our home phone number and the name of the street his restaurant was on! I had no idea what kind of area we lived in. For all I know we lived on crack corner and some murderer could have broken and robbed him and I could just envision with my fertile imagination him fending off burglars and getting shot or worse (to me at that point) that he was pissed at me so he was out at some bar with some slut that was living it up with my husband. Those were the ONLY two plausible explanations that my exhausted and depressed brain could come up with. The only way he was NOT answering the phone was he was either dead or out with some slut living it up while I sat 500 miles away with spit up on me nursing his newborn baby crying my eyes out. Yeah… did I mention I was a little nutty at this point?
I was SO frantic at this point that NOTHING was going to satisfy me except getting to Atlanta and seeing my husband and making sure he was okay. Back in the day, now, you remember you could not drive for like forever after you had a baby, not that I had a car there with me anyway since I had flown up, but, I was determined if my parents couldn’t take me, I was going to go to Lynchburg to the airport and rent a car and DRIVE to Atlanta myself so that I could make sure he was ok. Nothing was going to stand in my way. I was going come hell or high water and I think my parents, probably, at this point were thinking, let’s get this crazy woman and both her kids out of our house as soon as possible. I think hubby didn’t go in to work until later that day, like 3 o’clock or something and I still couldn’t get him to answer the phone at our house so my parents, myself and my two little babies set off for Atlanta with only the name of the exit where hubby worked. There was still no answer at our house and once we left my parents, we had no way of contacting hubby since there were no cell phones so we drive all day (I think it took like 10 or 12 hours back then) and show up late that evening at hubby’s restaurant.
Needless to say he was VERY surprised to see us and I was very relieved that he was ok and then so happy that I wasn’t even pissed that he hadn’t answered the phone although I’m sure my parents were plenty pissed. Turned out that the new phone he bought had a mute button and when he had slammed the phone down, it hit the mute button. He was wondering why I didn’t try to call him back but was too proud himself to call me back. Hopefully neither of us is still that stubborn or hard headed. Maybe???? At least it all turned out and he wasn’t dead or with some slut so score on both points! He was just being himself! So, yes, I think THAT was probably the WORST Mother’s Day experience for me, thus far. Hoping this one will maybe be sad but not farcical.