I prepare a dish of them and walk over to Turkish Cultural Center only to find out that the meeting had been moved to the TCC in MANHATTAN!
By now, I'm already half frozen and near collapse from exhaustion, but since I already have the yummy kurabiye in my hands, I call and tell
I trudge onto the 7 station thanking my stars that I didn't have to bring Monster and seriously considering getting Mr. Ozturk a flower or something on my way back when I see one of my friends carrying a stroller up the stairs with someone's help. Subhan Allah, the relief one feels in the presense of a good friend is what I felt when I ran into her. The soreness left my body and I really perked up. Plus, after hearing about HER day, I realized, we all feel like we're the most abused moms in the world, but there is always someone in a worse condition than us and I decided to definitely get Mr. O a rose.
At TCC in Mahattan, what I thought would be a small group of friends celebrating a friend's recent marriage, turned out to be a full-on Henna Party complete with henna trays, music and OH. MY. GOD everyone was dressed up.
I was dressed in old flappy jeans and a pilly sweater tunic and had forgotten to put on deodrant.
I still managed to dance and enjoy with my arms tucked in for the safety of my friends. For a while I was able to forget the screams and squeals of a toddler whose better part of the day is spent clinging to my leg. Marta, the guest of honor was radient in her dress and I cannot pass up the opportunity to share her picture here.