9 months ago I moved back to my childhood home with my Mom and Dad.
It’s been an adventure, it’s been hard work, it’s been wonderful, it’s been challenging. There are lots of stories to tell…Today I will talk about how absolutely thankful I am for my Momma.
I’ve always had my mom close, she ran a daycare out of our home until I went to Kindergarten. I remember the alphabet around the top of the dining room walls, I remember celery with peanut butter and raisins snacks that we called “ants on a log”. I remember knowing how lucky I was that I had my real mommy with me all day when those other kids didn’t.
I remember making apple sauce and cut out cookies. I remember canning tomatoes. I remember all of the awesome birthday cakes she would make with Barbies sticking out of the top.
I remember the countless times she took me to ballet class and Girl Scouts. I remember how my Girl Scout troop was a gem because we did things old school. Old school camping, fire cooking, old school Girl Scout songs that had been forgotten by everyone else.
I remember how she never told me who to be friends with, or what to wear but that I always wanted to make those decisions based on how I thought she would do it. She let me grow up on my terms, because I’ve always had to learn the hard way, that way I know my lessons are good and learned.
I remember after I broke up with my boyfriend and he threatened to drive his car into a tree, she woke up in the middle of the night to hug me and assure me that everything would be okay.
I called her hysterically crying when my friend Chris passed away in an accident. She couldn’t understand me so she told me to give him Advil, and brought ramen noodles to Kutztown instead of the Reading Eagle that I asked for. That still makes me smile, she tried her best.
She welcomed my step son into her heart without thinking twice, watched proudly as I tried to make him awesome birthday cakes (and failed). I’m not a good cake decorator.
She celebrated with me at the news of my pregnancy and practiced all of the songs she use to sing to me. And when Violet was born (named Violet in honor of my Mom’s mom), she bravely battled breast cancer, lost a boob, and never even showed fear. Not even for a second. That’s the kind of strong mom I want to be.
She let me cry it out when my marriage failed, but reminded me that I am an amazing woman, wife and mother.
She takes care of my pride and joy every day while I’m at work. She feeds her, loves her, teaches her. Violet and her MeMaw are best friends. MeMaw is the first person Violet asks for in the morning. They have an amazing bond.
At 32 years old, my mom takes care of me when I have the flu. She loves to do my laundry when it piles up high and gets out of control. And she doesn’t even get mad when I complain that she puts my linen pants in the dryer.
When I tell her I’m not eating meat anymore, she makes it her responsibility to make sure we have meatless food for me to eat, even when I tell her that she doesn’t have to because it’s my lifestyle choice.
I moved into her home, and flipped her house upside down with all of my home improvement projects and purging of old stuff. Change is hard no matter what the circumstances are, and my mom takes it way better than I ever thought she would.
The truth is, I could do this mom thing on my own, but nowhere near as good as I can with my mom around. She keeps me in check, she is the best role model, she’s pretty much the best mom ever.
I’m blessed to have my parents with me, Violet is blessed to be making these memories that she will keep with her forever. Love you Mommy! Happy Mother’s Day ❤️