Happy Birthday...Just a Wee Bit Late

I was thinking about blogging and birthdays and Mom and I realized that I didn't write a birthday blog. However, I'm not a complete meanie-head: I called her on her birthday and we celebrated her birthday over Labor Day weekend. She wasn't forgotten, I just forgot to blog. So it's exactly one month and eighteen days late, (sorry Mom!) but here it is.

A few weeks ago, I was talking with the Mow Crew about mothers in general. I started thinking about my mom and the relationship I have with her and I declared, "When I am a mom, if I can be half the woman my mom is today, I will be content with my life." And then we proceeded to share stories or things about our moms that make them such great people. Here's a sampling of what makes my mom so great...

Mom can wash dishes with water at the hottest setting. There is something about mom hands that I just can't quite figure out. It's like they have a tough shell that can handle anything, yet they're still so incredibly soft.

Mom is about tough love. She's never been a "nice mom" (that may sound horrible, but she knows what I mean). When Julie started school, she used to cry all the time. My mom would kneel down in the hall at school, plaster a smile to her face and in a very fierce voice say something to the effect of "Julie, if you don't stop crying and walk in that classroom right now, I will spank your bottom right here in front of everyone." There's nothing better than a mom who will push you to do the hard things just because she knows that it's good for you.

Doing one of the things she does best: Grandma-ing

Mom listens to my ridiculously detailed stories-at least I think she does. If she stops listening at some point, she's good at pretending to listen. I know I can call her and talk to her about whatever happens to be on my mind.

Mom answers all of my cooking questions, even when it means she has to answer the phone at least five times. I like cooking, but I haven't made everything in my recipe book. If I am making something on my own for the first time, I call my mom for initial instructions. Then I call about ten minutes later because I have a question about measuring something. Then I call about ten minutes later because I am unsure about an ingredient. Then I call about ten minutes later because my oven doesn't cook right and I don't know how how my oven should be or how long I should cook it. Then I call when it is done cooking to make sure it looks okay. Then I call after I've eaten it so that I can tell her how it went. And she answers the phone every time!

I appreciate her and I'm sorry that it took me so long to acknowledge her. Happy belated birthday, Mom!