Book Signing Thanks, Mother's Day Postmortem

The “A Suburban Mom: Notes from the Asylum” book signing on Saturday at Tatnuck Bookseller in Westborough, MA went well, in spite of my fears that it would be just me, and a pile of books, looking pathetic. And lonely.

I got to meet fellow Boston area mom blogger Chicky Chicky Baby, and frequent blog commenter Angela in person. (It’s surreal to meet folks with whom you’ve only enjoyed a virtual relationship.)

Thanks to my friends and family, a decent number of books were sold. (There are still a handful in the bookstore bearing my John Hancock-like signature if ya hurry.) ‘Twas a good day, particularly when The Spouse cracked open a bottle of champagne afterward to celebrate my first, official book signing.

As for Mother’s Day – the holiday which I maligned last week – I got to celebrate with my own mom at my house on Saturday with a casual cook-out. On Sunday morning, I was greeted at 8:30 a.m. (they let me sleep!) by Jonah who proceeded to read me a series of knock-knock jokes from a book. He was joined by Casey about 10 minutes later who snuggled next to me. A few minutes later, Abbey invited us all to the kitchen table for green pancakes (green being my favorite color), fresh fruit and coffee in a Rosie the Riveter mug, along with sweet cards and a business-related gift that kind of frightens me: A Blackberry.

After church, the five of us went to my sister-in-law Ellen’s house for a barbecue, celebrated Mother’s Day with my mother-in-law and, during post-meal family frivolity, I accidentally hit Ellen in the neck with a Nerf football, shortly after The Spouse hit Ellen’s preschool-aged daughter in the head with the same football. (FYI — The Spouse and I were playing catch with everyone, not simply winging footballs around the yard trying to knock down unsuspecting relatives.)

The day was capped off by Jonah’s sleepwalking – he was sobbing and crying while turning on all the lights in his brother’s room, then started an argument with me — and two depressing TV shows. On Mother’s Day evening, the last thing I wanted to see was a “Desperate Housewives” where (*spoilers ahead*) Lynette is suspected of having cancer and then a “Brothers & Sisters” episode where one half of a set of premature twins dies in his mother’s arms.

Talk about a downer. Geez.

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