This Day

I was in 7th grade when my friend Meghan Messer told me my mom was beautiful. Up to that point, the thought never crossed my mind. I had never paid attention to the bright blue eyes that Meghan pointed out. Those were just the eyes that met mine each morning as I stumbled out of bed. I had never noticed anything pretty about them; I just knew that they were always there to greet me.

My mom is beautiful. I know that now. But growing up she was my mom first, pretty second. And the first kind of trumped the second. Which might not seem right, but I believe is exactly as it should be.

As a mother now myself, I appreciate so much more who my mom is, how she raised me. I also just really enjoy her. She's quirky without being quirky at all. It's a perfect way to be.

My mom is not funny. At all. But we probably laugh more because of her than anyone else in our family. Once every few years she will say something funny. Like really funny. And while we will laugh at what was said, our laughter is mainly directed at how proud she is to have made a joke. She even tries to hide her laughter when she thinks it might be getting out of control. Just soundless shoulder shakes and body heaves. My siblings and I do everything we can to coax that kind of laugh out of her. To witness it is a kind of funny I can't make you understand.

My mother can't take pictures. At all.  But we love it when she does. Memories are best captured in our family with headless/armless photos. Or with 2 second video clips when she was "taking" a picture, "Say cheese. Wait. It's not working. Why isn't it working?"

My mother can't cook. At all. But she has managed to perfect the art of adding. Make Mac 'n Cheese. Stir in additional ingredient. Provide family with well balanced meal. Mac 'n Cheese + greens beans = well balanced meal. Mac 'n Cheese + hot dogs = well balanced meal. In her defense, we always had a vegetable on our plate. And she used to bake the most delicious homemade bagels/pretzels/bread. Who needs to know how to cook when you can serve up carb heaven like that?

My mother can't be mean. At all. She won't gossip, even though we try hard to make her. She befriends those who are friendless for a reason. She invites strangers to her dinner table. She serves endlessly, even when she is exhausted and has little time to serve herself.

And she has a secret crush on Tom Select.

Now do you get why I love her so much?