Mother’s Day: Do you celebrate or is it just a Hallmark holiday?!?
- Alexis Fritz
- May 12
- 4 min read
Well, this past week has been a real treat—like a rollercoaster designed by toddlers: chaotic, unregulated, and held together by the messy ass glitter glue. Moms everywhere are running around like headless chickens because it’s the end-of-year madness. Over here, our VIP events include Ella’s Art Show (move over, Monet) and the emotional gut-punch that is Briggs’ Pre-K Graduation. Kindergarten next year? Cool cool cool… just gonna go cry into a juice box real quick.
And Mother’s Day weekend? Oh, I was spoiled. I got my second Humira injection, pairing with methotrexate and a side of prednisone, because nothing says “Thanks for being a mom!” like being tackled by your own prescriptions. Honestly, they’re less medications and more like shady frenemies who smile in public(commercials make them sound amazing) while stabbing you with fatigue, brain fog, and a mild mental identity crisis. The exhaustion hit me as if I were a tiered runner (yes, I know the thought of my fat ass running is hysterical on its own)… in flip-flops… on a treadmill… that malfunctions suddenly rising to the peak speed!
Thankfully, I planned ahead like my brain worked- and I decided to take these meds on Fridays—so I can spend the weekend horizontal (not in a fun way), questioning my life choices. However, I will push myself to continue thinking about the positive effects this massive cocktail of medications could have on my sarcoid. That is what’s important! We will know more once I start to lower the prednisone (peace out steroid hell), which starts this week. Say a prayer please!
We made our own pizzas on Mother’s Day, and honestly? It was fun for all ages. My husband went into chef mode and cranked out over 20 pizzas on our outdoor pizza oven—the one with the fancy name that I honestly can’t remember. It makes pizza. That’s its job, and it does it well. I got fancy with a dairy-free salad pizza. Yes, salad. On pizza. Go ahead and judge—but it rocked my taste buds. My mom went full topping fairy and bought every topping option imaginable. Everyone got to create their own little custom masterpiece. It was chaos. It was carbs. It was a blast. Last but not least came dessert: ice cream bars, including dairy-free caramel ones. My medically induced fat ass was absolutely not turning down that kind of sugar joy. It was a nice Mother’s Day with family; low key and yummy food.
Fast forward to today—Monday—and Briggs’ class hosted a Mother’s Day Tea. The teacher rescheduled it from Friday (because it was down pouring), so we could sit outside and not drown. Super sweet of them—they made it very “low immunity friendly. Seriously, the teachers were angels and made sure I had everything I needed while I sat on the bench making a beaded keychain with Briggsy. Briggs was over the moon that I came, and while my body is now screaming at me, it was 1000% worth it just to see that huge grin on his face. I’m tired. Like “might fuse with the couch” tired. But my heart’s full, I was outside and I was smiling-that’s a win. Oh, I forgot to mention an amazing miracle-my sassy ass 13 year old daughter wrote me the nicest Mother’s Day card ever…… yes, Ella wrote it and was very sweet…. Shocker when it comes to us these days. It even made my eyes water and heart burst.
Lately, I’ve been knee-deep in my new consulting venture—and I’m loving it. Who knew that willingly diving back into emails, meetings, and spreadsheets could make a person feel… Complete. Slightly over-caffeinated but emotionally fulfilled. There’s something weirdly satisfying about solving property management problems that don’t involve my own children fighting over Goldfish or the damn tv.
What really makes me happy, is how many of the relationships I built over the years are still standing. Turns out, kindness, professionalism, and showing up timely really do leave a lasting impression. In all seriousness, relationships are the secret to building success in this industry. Sure, experience matters. Strategy matters. But at the end of the day, people want to work with people they trust—and preferably, people who don’t ghost them after the contract is signed. Yes, I’m available for hire—especially if your property has drama, needs direction, or just someone who knows how to fix the mess without loosing my shit.
As always, I’ve gotta end with a massive shoutout to my personal VIPs—the real MVPs of this wild ride. You know who you are: the ones making returns for me (because apparently, Whole Foods, Amazon returns, and I are in a long-distance relationship now), swinging by with “essentials”, and sending the daily meme therapy I never knew I needed. You guys have singlehandedly kept my sanity on life support. The texts, daily check-ins, “just thinking of you” moments—they all mean the world. Especially when they come between back-to-back doctor appointments, because apparently, I’m now on a first-name basis with every specialist within a 20-mile radius. Living the dream folks. Your support makes me smile, laugh, and occasionally ugly cry in the best way. Keep it coming—I couldn’t survive this journey without each of you.
Comments