Saturday, March 30, 2013

My Stupid Ham, and Public Humiliation

Face it, I'm still in auto-pilot. I pick up my phone at least three times a day and try to call my mom, but realize I cannot, put the phone back, and go about my day, trying to function so my kids eat and my house is somewhat habitable.

I lost a month- technically two. Seriously. Last I knew it was the week after my birthday, and my mom called me to tell me when she was feeling better she was going to do something with me for my birthday. Then it was February first. And now it's Easter weekend.. and almost April first. I had my first public emotional breakdown on Friday.

You know those stupid thing you always call your mom about, that you really probably know the answer to, but you're in crazy-shopping-right-before-a-holiday-mode, so you call her to check what kind of ham you're supposed to get, or what cans of tomato go into HER tomato sauce?? Yeah. So every Easter of my adult life, (and other major holiday)I have this conversation (or something very similar) with my mom,  

"Hi Ma- Quick question.. What kind of ham do I get- honey glazed or brown sugar cured?" 

"Jesus Christ, Lauren, you call me every year for this.. you think you should remember by now." 

"Well, I would if the color of the foil would stay the same.." 

"Which ham do you have now?" 

"I don't know it says smoked ham- is that right?" 

"Just look for the brown sugar one- that's the one we have every year. It comes with the packet of glaze so you can just put it over it when it's almost done." 

"Brown sugar, not honey?" 


"Ok ma- Thanks, I'll give you a buzz when I'm outta here, this place is a fricken zoo." 

"Ok, love you." 

"Love you, too."

Except this year. This year, I went over to the ham section, and started sorting through an assortment of multi colored foil wrappers, trying to decide which stupid ham was the perfect Easter ham. After ten minutes of waffling back and forth about stupid hams.. I picked up my phone, hit favorites, went to hit my mom's picture, and burst into tears.

I mean, not teared up- no, nothing less humiliating than full out tears, streaming down my face like a faucet. The only thing that could have been worse was if I started doing the ugly Oprah-cry. Yeah. It was bad.

So here I am, crying over a stupid ham in the grocery aisle, because I can't call my mom...

I should remember which stupid ham. I think it's the purple ham.. I'm still crying.

My head is saying, Damn it! I am hysterical in the grocery store for crying out loud. Stop. You look stupid. It's a stupid ham, just pick it up and put it in your cart!, but I'm stuck, crying over an end cap of rainbow foil stupid hams.

So I call Cyndy.. my spiritual mom. She's driving cross country to see her son and her very pregnant daughter in law. I'm full out sobbing, but not quite ugly Oprah crying yet, and ask her which ham to buy. She calms me down, and starts asking me questions about what kind of hams I'm looking at, and what kind of a ham I like to eat... to distract me and get me to stop blubbering in public, I'm sure.

And I stop crying finally, and throw the stupid purple brown sugar ham into my cart, and walk away as other shoppers look curiously at the weirdo who was just sobbing over a stupid ham.

Please tell me I'm not alone here, and that someone out there has gone through something like this, too??

I hope you all have a happy Easter, or are enjoying Passover.  I will post a picture of the kiddos and the EB tomorrow.



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