A mom is not always the woman in the delivery room giving birth to you. I takes more than some pushing and 9 months of discomfort to be a mom. The pushing and discomfort make you a mother, but not a mommy, mama, or a mom. I am eternally grateful to have a mom who put up with the pain, did the pushing and 40 some years later she’s still clocking mommy hours. I love you Ma.
A mom is…
When you’re 10 Mommy plays dirty tricks on you so you eat your liver. They usually say something like I don’t want you to be sick. When your 30 you find out your body can’t absorb iron and you ate liver for nothing. Moms just shrug their shoulders and laugh.
At 4 four you’re super smart so you think chewing grape Bubbalicious gum as you fall asleep is a good idea. You wake up with your hair tangled in a wad of gum and Mommy spends 3 hours de-tangling it. At 40 when your hair breaks off from stress, too many relaxers, or something else crazy and you look like a patchwork quilt your Mom spends 3 hours trying to convince you the patchy hair-do looks good on you.
At 8 when you’re sick and running a fever Mommy is the woman putting cool compresses on your head, feeding you Jell-O, and staying awake for days until you get better. When you’re 40 Mom willingly misses Scandal and the Thunder game to take you to the E.R. A really cool Auntie will miss Scandal and the game to ride with your Mom and hold her hand. While you’re scared to death, your Mom and Auntie will be cracking jokes about your ashy ankles needing lotion to distract you.
When you’re a kid Mommy checks your closet for monsters. When you’re grown and fabulous you check Mom’s closet for something fierce to wear.
As a kid you dream of being an astronaut, a singer, a teacher, or something else amazing. A lot of people, some of them family, will say you can’t do that. Stop being silly and be sensible. Mommy tells you don’t pay attention to fools because you can do anything you set your mind to. When you grow up and start to think maybe there isn’t anything special about you Mom gives you the side eye look and tells you to knock it off.
When you’re a kid Mommy accepts the tattered, glue spattered card you made her like you painted the Mona Lisa. Mommies will even pretend to wear the macaroni necklaces you make like it’s a ring of diamonds. When you’re grown and you have more month than money Mom pretends a phone call is all she wanted any way.
When you’re a kid you call Mommy when the scary things under the bed give you nightmares. When you’re grown you call your Mom in the middle night because the person you married has turned into a nightmare.
At 4 you want to be just like your mommy. At 8 you think mommy may be crazy. At 16 you want to be like anyone but your mom. At 32 you realize you’ll never be able to walk in your mom’s shoes and that you are truly a princess because your mom is most definitely a queen. As a teenager your mom prays you’ll make it through another day safely, and that she won’t have to kill the crazy alien teenager masquerading as her child. When your grown your mom prays while you’re away at college, while you’re deployed in a war zone, and every day you walk this Earth.
At 12 you and your siblings fight over who made mommy the best gift. At 30, 40, 50, and 60 you and your siblings fight over who gave mom the best gift.
At 5 after a rough day Mommy’s carrot cake made everything better. At 42 after a rough day Mom’s carrot cake makes everything better. I guess the moral of the story is Mom was, will be, and is everything. No matter how old we get Mommy is still the answer. The Mommy/Mom thing never changes and really it doesn’t get any better than that.
