I knowIknowIknow.
It's like I have no consideration for posting anything but birthday stuff. Sorry, Peanuts. I get behind on Things. On the eve of my not-so-young birthday I may as well admit- that's how it is. It's how it's going to be.
I was probably meant to be a nurse, on so many levels. I never was, but still- I triage. Blogging things that probably only I care about doesn't often get to the top of the list. Birthdays, though, well. Those are sort of momentous. I mean, if a person has a family blog, they can AT LEAST do the birthdays, amiright?
So. This time, it's my birthday.
This birthday, I have the exceptional gift in life to spend it with the person who gave it to me. Mom. Hi mom!
Tomorrow, Mom will be accompanying me on the last leg of this long, as yet un-blogged about journey. Because she rocks.
After I became a mother, I started sending my mother flowers on my birthday. Because then, I finally Got It. This year, the flowers would wilt in the car but I still want to say something to my mama on my birthday.
Mommy.
You did not always do everything right and make all the right decisions. Nope.
Thank Goodness, because if you did how would you so totally understand when I come crying to you when I mess up? There are things you have done, or not done, that I have looked back on and given you and F for. Being real. Like there are things that I am doing already, and definitely will do when the Littles get older (this gig gets harder when they get big! Agh!), that I will be similarly graded on.
That is the thing about parenting, the thing about life. You do the best you can; sometimes it works out better than other times.
But.
Looking back, here are the things I think you got totally right:
You found cigarettes in my room and instead of punishing me, left a note about how disappointed you were in my choice. That was the end of that. Forever.
You told me I could go to any party any time, as long as I told you where I was and called if I needed a ride. I did, and I recall a few times I left a rager (safely) in your blue minivan. And lots of times my friends' moms thought we were "at a movie", while you alone knew the cross streets and what time I'd be home.
You let me read all the books I ever wanted. And I loved learning because of it. Still do.
You worked at the school to afford me an early montessori education, which I credit with so much of my knowledge, personal development, happy memories, and love for nerdy science journals.
You took us out into nature. Hiking, camping, skiing, biking, road-tripping. You forced our tender little butts into the natural world, no matter how much we whined and sulked and protested. And in so doing gave me some of my most treasured memories.
You drilled into my brain that girls can do Anything- and you lived up to that paradigm in every way.
You worked your still-hot-at-over-sixty patootie off to give me every advantage possible. Believe it or not, I take none of that for granted.
Most importantly?
You loved me unconditionally. Even when it wasn't easy. Even when I didn't earn it. I have not once in my life doubted that you would always be my biggest fan, and be there for me when the dust clears. And you always, ALWAYS have been. I don't take that for granted, either.
You taught me how to have fun. How to work hard. How to embrace adventures. How to have an open heart. How to look for the light ahead. How to appreciate feminism, education, accomplishment. How to appreciate being a mother, sticky hugs, splashing in puddles.
Tomorrow I will turn the same age you were when I was born.
Think of that! Hard for me to imagine, with three Littles tugging at my hems. In a lot of ways, I think you were younger at 32 than I am. Maybe that's why you are still so young now- so young that people balk when you tell them your age. At the same time, you raised me with a wisdom that I hope will become Little One, Missy, and Little Mister's lessons in life.
Be happy, be healthy, be strong. Be who You Are. Depend on YOU. Find your own, unique, way in the world. But, always, come home when you need some good lasagna and a hug.
On my birthday, I think of what it's like- trying hard, wanting desperately to do the Right Thing always and not always knowing what that is. I remember what it's like bringing Life into the world- in a physical sense, in a philosophical sense.
I look back on a lot of flying and falling, stumbling and crawling, and I see the shadow of my mother's love beside me always. All I can say is- thank you.
You made me and I'm not perfect. But I like being me. You gave me life and it's not been perfect, but I love life. You're my mother and I didn't choose you. But I'm glad I got to be yours.
By the way. I love that you had me at 32. It makes me feel, on this birthday that once seemed SO far away, that life is just beginning. How fun that, once again, we get to begin it together.
Adventures await.
It's like I have no consideration for posting anything but birthday stuff. Sorry, Peanuts. I get behind on Things. On the eve of my not-so-young birthday I may as well admit- that's how it is. It's how it's going to be.
I was probably meant to be a nurse, on so many levels. I never was, but still- I triage. Blogging things that probably only I care about doesn't often get to the top of the list. Birthdays, though, well. Those are sort of momentous. I mean, if a person has a family blog, they can AT LEAST do the birthdays, amiright?
So. This time, it's my birthday.
This birthday, I have the exceptional gift in life to spend it with the person who gave it to me. Mom. Hi mom!
Tomorrow, Mom will be accompanying me on the last leg of this long, as yet un-blogged about journey. Because she rocks.
After I became a mother, I started sending my mother flowers on my birthday. Because then, I finally Got It. This year, the flowers would wilt in the car but I still want to say something to my mama on my birthday.
Mommy.
You did not always do everything right and make all the right decisions. Nope.
Thank Goodness, because if you did how would you so totally understand when I come crying to you when I mess up? There are things you have done, or not done, that I have looked back on and given you and F for. Being real. Like there are things that I am doing already, and definitely will do when the Littles get older (this gig gets harder when they get big! Agh!), that I will be similarly graded on.
That is the thing about parenting, the thing about life. You do the best you can; sometimes it works out better than other times.
But.
Looking back, here are the things I think you got totally right:
You found cigarettes in my room and instead of punishing me, left a note about how disappointed you were in my choice. That was the end of that. Forever.
You told me I could go to any party any time, as long as I told you where I was and called if I needed a ride. I did, and I recall a few times I left a rager (safely) in your blue minivan. And lots of times my friends' moms thought we were "at a movie", while you alone knew the cross streets and what time I'd be home.
You let me read all the books I ever wanted. And I loved learning because of it. Still do.
You worked at the school to afford me an early montessori education, which I credit with so much of my knowledge, personal development, happy memories, and love for nerdy science journals.
You took us out into nature. Hiking, camping, skiing, biking, road-tripping. You forced our tender little butts into the natural world, no matter how much we whined and sulked and protested. And in so doing gave me some of my most treasured memories.
You drilled into my brain that girls can do Anything- and you lived up to that paradigm in every way.
You worked your still-hot-at-over-sixty patootie off to give me every advantage possible. Believe it or not, I take none of that for granted.
Most importantly?
You loved me unconditionally. Even when it wasn't easy. Even when I didn't earn it. I have not once in my life doubted that you would always be my biggest fan, and be there for me when the dust clears. And you always, ALWAYS have been. I don't take that for granted, either.
You taught me how to have fun. How to work hard. How to embrace adventures. How to have an open heart. How to look for the light ahead. How to appreciate feminism, education, accomplishment. How to appreciate being a mother, sticky hugs, splashing in puddles.
Tomorrow I will turn the same age you were when I was born.
Think of that! Hard for me to imagine, with three Littles tugging at my hems. In a lot of ways, I think you were younger at 32 than I am. Maybe that's why you are still so young now- so young that people balk when you tell them your age. At the same time, you raised me with a wisdom that I hope will become Little One, Missy, and Little Mister's lessons in life.
Be happy, be healthy, be strong. Be who You Are. Depend on YOU. Find your own, unique, way in the world. But, always, come home when you need some good lasagna and a hug.
On my birthday, I think of what it's like- trying hard, wanting desperately to do the Right Thing always and not always knowing what that is. I remember what it's like bringing Life into the world- in a physical sense, in a philosophical sense.
I look back on a lot of flying and falling, stumbling and crawling, and I see the shadow of my mother's love beside me always. All I can say is- thank you.
You made me and I'm not perfect. But I like being me. You gave me life and it's not been perfect, but I love life. You're my mother and I didn't choose you. But I'm glad I got to be yours.
By the way. I love that you had me at 32. It makes me feel, on this birthday that once seemed SO far away, that life is just beginning. How fun that, once again, we get to begin it together.
Adventures await.
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