In honor of Mother's Day, I'd like to share some of the reasons why I love my mom:
Just look at her. She's such a beauty. She was back then and she still is now. Definitely the hottest grandmother I know.
I love my mom's kisses. She still gives them the same.
Also I love that she never throws anything away, so that I never have to say goodbye to my favorite childhood dress (above), because it will live forever as wardrobe for my mother's favorite childhood doll (below).
I appreciate that she always encouraged diversity in our home by buying me the dark-skinned baby dolls.
Here we are after my first day of kindergarten. See how she's looking down as we walk and listening to me? I love her for that. (Also gotta love the pink sweatsuit -- I find myself wearing something not so dissimilar at this very moment.)
Twenty years later, she drove across the state to be with me on the day I became a mother, and she was so wonderful that night and the days that followed. She was there for me and so very helpful, while still giving me and my new little family the space we needed. She was perfect.
(Plus, again, lust look how cute she is with her hours-old grandson.)
This being my first experience of Mother's Day as a mother myself, I will say that my perspective has changed a bit, or a lot. I realized within the first hours of Bobby's birth that one truly cannot fathom the joy and pain of being a mother until she is one. I am obviously a very new mom, and I have been blessed with lots and lots of joy. But I have already felt the pangs and beginnings of pangs -- like a fist to the gut when I hear of a mother losing her baby, the irresistible urge to hold my drowsing son for just five more minutes because I know I won't be able to rock him to sleep forever. I look into Bobby's tiny face and when my mind wanders to the future, I am afraid for him and afraid for my heart -- I wonder who he will grow up to be and I pray that he will one day become the man God made him to be. I am already bracing myself for the pain I will inevitably experience as I try to guide this boy -- but I am hopeful that if I really love him, and encourage him, and pray for him, and be there for him as an example of God's loving presence for us, every single day, then there will be a lot more joy, and a lot less pain.
So today I am especially appreciative of my mother, and all the other mothers that made my life possible:
My mom's mom:
And her mom:
And my dad's mom:
And let's not forget the mother of my sweet loving husband:
Or her mom:
Happy Mother's Day to all of you.
I'll leave you with just a few more reasons why my mom was and is the BEST mom:
She really knew how to make holidays special and exciting when we were kids.
She taught us how to spit spitballs through straws at Friendly's.
She has always been quite a weirdo, which I now know is a virtue.
Her cheesecake is to DIE for.
My mommy sang the same song to me every night at bedtime when I was a little girl. It went like this: "Angie's my baby. She's such a cutie. I love her so much. She's my little _____." She would mix up the last bit -- lots of times I would request which ending I wanted that night.
Now I sing the same thing to my little boy.
I love you, mom. So very much. And I am sure that as the years go on I will only appreciate you more.