Mothers Day: Better Late Than Never

I'm bummed I can't be with my momma today.

It's amazing to me how things have changed over the last 25 years with regards to my mom.

I was never a mama's girl, per se. In my house, mom was the punisher, the enforcer, the supporter, the everything.

I remember fighting with my mom as a teenager a lot more than telling her how much I appreciated her being at every single volleyball game, decorating the street on the way to school for my 16th birthday, letting my friends and I take over her bathroom to get ready for the 8th grade dance, shuffling me between friends houses after school...you name it, my mom did it. And really, up until I was a senior in high school with a great group of friends who liked hanging out with my parents, I liked to pretend that she didn't do any of those things.

Moms are embarassing, moms are out to get you. Duh!

But now, at 25 (and even at 22 and 23 and 24), I wish I could see my mom every day. I wish she could still live with me so that when I get ready for work she could tell me if I look good, and she could make my lunch if I was in a rush, and I could have someone to yell at when I'm running late, because clearly that's her fault.

I call my mom every day. Sometimes I think she gets annoyed with how often I call her and how much I have to say. But she's my mom, and since she doesn't live 20 minutes away from me anymore, I need to call her and make sure she knows every single detail of my life so I can turn around and yell at her for being so nosy and wondering why she asks so many questions. Because she really does ask a lot of questions.

I love my mom. I love that she has taught me how to be independent (much to my chagrin) and I love that I have taught her bad words. I love that she & my dad have showed me how to be in a relationship and I love that I have shown her that I actually did take something away from the 18 years I lived in their house. I love that she tells me every single day how proud of me she is, and I love that I can continue to make her proud every single day.

 

For my entire 25 years, I have never once wondered if or how much my mom loved me. I have never wondered if I could tell her something, or if she would understand. I have never wished for a different mom, or even for my mom to be different (except sometimes).

Mom, even though I tell you this a lot, you're the best, and I love you. Now if you could please move back to Atlanta, all would be right in my world.