Celebrating womanhood

It is international woman’s day today (the remaining 364 are for the men).

It is the day I receive SMSs and emails from women friends all over congratulating me on being a successful fellow woman. I am told to celebrate the occasion by forwarding the sms/email to 7 other women I like. (now if these women liked me, there is a high chance of them liking me less after I send them the chain mail)

Today a lot is said about me and my clan:

I am a woman of substance

I am the better half

I am the fairer sex (doesn’t matter that husband is three shades lighter than me, today I am allowed to be anything I want)

I am a diva

I am a ‘Yummy mummy’ (one more to join the long list of phrases like 'paradigm shift', 'page-3-person', 'middle class values' and 'quality time' that I keep hearing often but never quite understand)

Usually I rubbish special days like mother’s day and friend’s day as a conspiracy wrought by savvy marketers to make more money, but this time I feel like playing along. A spa session, followed by lunch with other ‘yummy mummies’, culminating in a chick flick directed by a fellow chick seemed like a good way to celebrate womanhood, even at the cost of indulging a few exploitative marketers.

‘Today you have a new mom; used to be called Dad till this minute’’ I announce to the kids as I get ready to leave for my official day of decadence.
4 of the 6 yummy mummies are able to make it.

We debate on where to eat – one is on a see-food diet, meaning she only sees the food, doesn’t eat; another is on a see-food diet of a different kind, she eats everything she sees. The third eats only organic food and the last is on a fast today to appease her favourite god (I'm not telling you which one of these I am). It is nearly tea-time before we arrive at a decision on where to lunch. No wonder we are given just one day to celebrate!

Lunchtime conversation is about the men and kids we have been trying so hard to get away from.

Spa session turns out to be an expensive indulgence.

Chick flick turns out to be a drag.

Kid calls to say I was missed sorely because mom-of-the-day has not been of much help with the science project, has served milk in breakable cup (that was tested and declared broken), has forgotton to carry a water bottle to the play-park and has almost forgotten one kid while returning. Old mom is wanted back asap.

My day turns out ok. But thankfully, for everyone’s sake, tomorrow we will be back to men’s day and the world will be normal again.