As in Worst Mother of the Year, that is.

Generally, I pride myself on my calendar skills. If you know me, you may have even heard me brag over the years about my superior time management capabilities. Well, I really blew it this time – maybe even worse than that time when I told my son with the broken leg to just walk it off.

I booked a long weekend in Florida for my son’s birthday. For myself.

I completely forgot about his birthday, something I swore I’d never do again after committing to memory the mnemonic my secretary came up with to help me remember if he was born on the 5th or the 9th of the month. (The n sound in Quinn = the ninth.)

I became aware of my scheduling error when my son, who, incidentally, is at his dad’s house this year on his actual birthday, requested to have some friends over on his birthday eve. He got to witness my realization that I had really messed up, (even worse than when I suggested my middle son put a bandaid on that gash on his knee that eventually required stitches), and recognized my sincere regret for my poor planning.

I immediately apologized, profusely and sincerely. He responded by assuring me that it wasn’t a big deal and shared that he really didn’t understand why his oldest brother (whose date and actual time of birth I’ve never faltered in recalling) gets annoyed with how much I travel because, as my youngest said: “I know you’re having a good time.”

His response was mature, generous, and understanding.

It seems that perhaps I just might be doing something right.

Maybe I’m not really the worst mother in the word.

Care to share some of your parenting fails?