I Heart My Mom

Today is my mother's birthday. I will not mention the number, but I don't really think she cares. I am her only daughter, only child and I will share my love for her in the form of a blog post. (Ah, modern times.)

My mom was born in Sioux City, IA the fourth of seven children and the first girl. She grew up on a farm, sharing beds with her sisters. They were expected to clean their plates at dinner and spent their summers playing outside, all day. My grandparent's first son died before any of the other kids were born, and they lost their youngest son, Lee, when he was 19. My mom still carries his Bible, worn and well used, with handwritten notes in the margins from both of them. When she moved to Omaha and started working at a bank she was introduced to my dad, at the urging of my Aunt Kate, he asked her out on a date. To this day Kate insists that she is the reason I exist, but that's a different story. My parents moved to Colorado shortly after they were married and have been here ever since.

Of course, I didn't witness any of that, I heard it all from various people over the years. My part of the story comes in around her 33rd year when I was born. My mom stayed home with me and did a lot of babysitting to supplement the income. I remember a lot of Sesame Street, grilled cheese and carrot sticks, the vinyl back seat of the Oldsmobile station wagon on the way to church and Bible Study. I remember Pudding Pops on the backyard swing set, bubble baths, and lots and lots of bedtime stories. And my mom was present for, or more often the reason for, all of it.

The woman has a self-sacrificial, never give up, work-hard-until-the-job-is-done personality. Just give her a cup of coffee in the morning and her mid-afternoon granola bar and she can do anything. I came home to a clean house after all three of my babies were born because of my mom. She has cooked meals, done laundry, cleaned bathrooms, washed children, fed backyard chickens, sewed dresses, planted flowers, emptied trash, dressed Barbies and children, brought me saltines when I'm sick, and a myriad of other odd chores. She drops my kids off at school and picks them up, she is pretty much interchangeable with me at school, all the other moms know her as well as they know me. The woman can do it all. She watches our three kids when Jeremiah and I go to work, she is SO SO much better than the best Nanny.

I'm sure my mom feels blessed to have had a daughter, I know she prayed for a child. But the truth is, I am fortunate to be her daughter. We are all blessed to have her in our lives. I am so thankful for all her help, support, love and encouragement. Happy Birthday Mom!