Why yes, that was a picture at the Bean.

I just love holidays. This is no secret. So, uh, a weekend devoted to mothers? (Yes, it's a weekend.) I accept. In fact, this 30 day span includes Mother's Day, our anniversary, Memorial Day and my birthday. Cinco de Mayo just missed the cut.

With the exception of Cinco de Mayo and Memorial Day, someone around here is feelin' the holiday pressure. And it sure isn't me. (And Nora never lets stuff like that get to her.) But, so far, he's stepped up to the plate. (But it's a long 30 days, Schoeny. This is no time to let down your guard, even for a second.)

So! The weekend began with a motherly trip to...the Home Depot. Apparently neither my bathroom window nor  various things requiring adhesive realize that this is a HOLIDAY. But they were giving out popcorn. Festivities- check. Also festive? The gifts that Big and Li'l Schoeny gave me: bubble bath (yep, I still take baths. But these days it's more of a "Forget* this, I'm taking a bath") and a membership to Costco. Woot, a brick of cheese bigger than me! Also, admission into that club that acknowledges 'second breakfast' and 'first lunch!' I was also given a stunningly crayon-ed card with questionably good penmanship for a six month-old.

(*Sometimes I don't say "forget.")

After a quick car nap, Nora was ready to be bundled within an inch of her life to go play downtown. (For you see, we live in Chicago. March= 90 degrees and May= 12.) We took her to the Celtic Fest at Grant Park...where it was predominantly about Nova Scotia. And by "predominantly" I mean "four booths." The other was manned by the Chicago Tribune. So, they scaled down a bit. We still had such fabulous Celtic fare as...Irish nachos. You know, like the [Mexican] Celts used to serve up. Whatever, they tossed some corned beef on top and I had no qualms at all about saying Erin Go Brasa.

And then it rained. But it was cool because Nora was charming the aprons off of the counter staff inside one of the beverage tents= we got to stay without ordering more food. In the process of trying to rip P.J.'s cup from his hands (she loves cups) one of her squeals of outrage and dismay attracted loud 'awws' from a few 20-something gals. So we hung out for a few with our pals Natalie and Dave and his bro (Natalie of 'Get Keely Back In Shape' fame- seriously, she's faboo) and then realized we should actually, you know, see the festival. We had wanted to stay and see the Saw Doctors at 7pm but, well, rain + infant + only four booths of merchandise= we were done by 4:30pm.

We went home and took a nap.

That night P.J. and I had an inexplicable craving for meatloaf. So, we whipped up a batch and ate it while watching SNL. Yes, Betty White was great. So was the meatloaf.

Sometimes adulthood is a lot weirder than they make it out to be.

The next a.m. Peej and Nora took me to Victory's Banner, my favorite brunch place in the entirety of the world, where I ate too much food, let strangers tell me how darling my well[ish] behaved daughter was being, and was handed a lovely long-stemmed rose. (I also met a woman who was originally from Pittsfield, MA. The Pittsfield contingent can attest to how bizarre this is. For many reasons.)

But what holiday celebrating motherhood would be complete without a couple of Oh My Goodness, Please Don't Remove My Child From My Care moments? For instance. As I was rocking Nora to sleep on my lap, a YELLOW JACKET landed on her bare arm. (I have no idea how it got inside, for the record. Windows and doors= closed.) I had a moment of panic- about eighteen rapid fire thoughts rushed through my mind- is she allergic to bees? Am I? WHO CARES? And then I grabbed the corner of her towel and crushed the bee in my hand. And then yelled for P.J. And then did the exact opposite of Stop, Drop & Roll, which is Run, Spin & Panic. 'Cause I couldn't find the bee.  P.J. discovered it a few feet away from us- yep, we had traveled around the upstairs of the house with it in the towel- and he performed a Fatality. My poor nudie daughter was more alarmed by her crazytown parents than by any impending stinger. (At least bees are quiet.)

And yes, she was clad only in a towel- we had just given her a bath and were letting her play naked due to the horrific diaper rash currently wrecking her poor bottom- and that was because of an adverse reaction to her oatmeal baby cereal. I, too, was in a slight state of- um- exposure due to nursing prior to BeeWatch 2010. Perfect for running around in front of windows, especially if you're drawing attention to yourself with yells. Happy Mother's Day!

We finished off a lovely weekend with exceptional Ecuadorian food and a viewing of that maternal classic- Blade.

Okay, adulthood isn't just weird. It's also relentlessly terrific.

As long as you're properly attired.