For My Mom ...

Dear Mom,

As I'm sure you're aware, it's almost Mother's Day. And since I have all these children now and am too broke to buy you flowers or jewelry live four hours away from you, I thought I'd write you a nice heartfelt blog post in lieu of a fancy present.

First of all, thanks for giving me some of your best traits: charm and wit. (That almost - almost - makes up for the fact that you also gave me small boobs and frizzy hair. Oh, and the propensity to gain like a zillion pounds while pregnant.) And your eye shape. We've always been told we have pretty eyes, and now my boys' eyes have the same shape - so when I look at them, I see not only myself, but you. I hope I look like you when I'm your age; you've always looked so young. This was not a great thing when you'd substitute-teach at my high school and my guy friends would comment about how hot you were (barf!) but now that I'm hurtling at warp-speed toward middle age, I guess that wouldn't be the most terrible thing that could happen.

Also ... I forgive you for the bleach-blonde helmet and frosted blue eyeshadow (and those practically-nonexistent shorts! And that orange tan-in-a-bottle! And that cigarette!) you sported in the '80s:

Nice couch, too, by the way.

I forgive you for the brunette 'fro (it's like you were channeling Cher) and super-high-waisted jeans (oh my gawd, they're eating your boobs!) of the '90s:

I can't say much about those black leggings and turtle-print T-shirt I'm wearing, but hey, we're talking about you ... not me. 

In all seriousness, though ... when I think about you, Mom, I think of your grit and fortitude and determination. I watched you go through a lot with my father, who was just plain heartless most of the time, culminating in a messy divorce. You raised me, the last child left in the house, as a single mom. You worked two jobs and went back to college, all at the same time. You worked your ass off to better our lives. You taught me how welfare is supposed to be used: as a hand-up, not a hand-out. We may have been on food stamps and Medicaid, but your goal was clearly to use it while we desperately needed it, and then give it up the second we didn't. (Plus you refused to use the food stamps to buy anything but healthy stuff instead of the soda and junk food that I wanted - which I hated at the time, but now I see you were setting a good example. Remember the time you grudgingly let me use them to buy a Lunchable on my birthday? Hehe. It's the little things.) And on top of all that, no matter what kind of apartment or house we lived in, you always kept it neat and tidy and cute. ALL. THE. TIME. (Which actually kind of gives me a complex now about why I can't seem to keep my house that way.)

You were busy all the time, but I never doubted that you loved me. Of all the changes our mother-daughter relationship has undergone throughout the years, that's one thing that has always remained constant. I know you love me, and I know you're proud of me, unconditionally. Even when I'm not so proud of myself.

Now that I'm an adult, our relationship has been pretty awesome. You're still my friend, but now we can relate to each other as fellow mothers - and I get to watch you love my boys the same way I do.

And I like your hair better now, too.

So happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you more than words can say - on a blog or otherwise. Thank you for being an amazing mother. I can't wait to see you in a few weeks when I give you the ultimate Mother's Day gift of a new grandson to love!

Yeah, that's it ... the baby is your gift this year.

Sweet.



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