I Love You To...Infinity...And Beyond

The week prior to Mother's Day was a looney one:

Baseball practice x3
Baseball games x2
Track practice
Work Deadlines
Team ride
Time trial
Road Race

Somehow, we managed to get everywhere we needed to be, never forgetting a glove, cup, little man jock strap, or even my bike. We managed to plant an upwards of 100 annuals in your yard, the "pattern" of which, was designed by T himself. We managed to get our dance on in the living room more than once. And, we managed to finally find the nerf basketball so we can resume our living room tourneys.

We capped off our weekend by heading south Saturday afternoon following the the big baseball game to see some friends. It marked a perfect way to kick off Mother's Day weekend...a little baseball lesson for T from Big B, a little mommy bonding time with K, a smiley baby fix, some more good friends, and in the a.m. a fat breakfast and a beautiful drive home.

All was, perhaps too perfect Sunday afternoon as we settled in to our respective couches mumbling about the rapid approach of afternoon track practice. Oh, and there was also MY mother who was deserving of something fine for Mother's Day day. T suggested and I agreed, I'd run and get HER taken care of during his track practice, as T has a bit of an aversion for errands.

Perfect multi-tasking, he said. Except then our little weekend train of dreamy perfection began to drive straight off the tracks as I realized I'd left my wallet, and therefore my life in that cozy little town we visited approximately one hour south.

SIGH.

Off we drove. I dropped the boy at the track, and called my mom to save the day...by picking up the boy, she could also save him from a two hour car ride, and I could be there by the time T finished.

I used the drive to catch up via phone with a long lost friend, and arrived at our friends' house to find no one home. It was funny at first. I made a few phone calls, trying to hunt him down. Soon the entire town was in on the hunt: relatives, friends hours away, and even his family. No one still, could come up with B, and therefore my wallet.

I decided it was getting late and I'd just as well see about breaking in. I made my way to the back of B&K's darkened house, only to find B and Chew, sitting at the table in the dark, scantily clad in their matching spandex, drinking a beer. My wallet laid on the table alongside the five other things I forgot.

As if to continue the train's derailment, when I sent my kid's dad a text alerting him that the boy would be at my mom's instead of in the car with me for his Sunday evening call...I received back this zinger/text...(mind you, he has not visited my increasingly bitter child since Nov.):

"I will call this number from now on as it appears that Tyler is consistently in the care of your parents. I am not quite sure where your priorities lie."

Interesting given the circumstances...but then again, what I have come to expect.

Not to be dettered on my lovely day, I returned to my parents', wallet in tow, had a nice laugh about my forgetfulness, and T and I ventured a couple blocks north, home.

I was beat. T was beat. We went straight to bed. I crawled in to my bed after tucking him in, and flopped my head on my pillow and found this note, stuffed in the bottom of a scrunched up brown paper bag, alongside a miniature furry kangaroo...a baby joey tucked in her pouch.

T told me he picked it up from my sister's garage sale pile, it reminded him of him and me, and how I always take such good care of him. He said was sorry he couldn't do better for my Mother's Day but he needed a car and some money and he's a kid and doesn't have a car or any money.

Never have I been more proud of my kid, never more sure of my priorities: