Dia de la Madre

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and all I can say is it's about time. I could drag this out for a couple thousand words or so, but let me do it like this:

Moms rule.

For 29ish years, my mom has put up with the worst. Eight kids. I'll say it again: Eight kids. Now, she even admits that she must have been crazy. And she kinda was. She did things that still don't make a lot of sense. Like dragging me out of 3rd grade to go home and make my bed. Or like telling my brother that if he didn't finish his oatmeal, she'd feed it to him through his ear…and then doing exactly that. Or like playing connect-the-dots with my sister's freckles. But I'm gonna cut her some slack. Why?

Because I remember that she held me and let my cry it out when I was four and the other kids left me in the dust on my big wheel. Because she taught me to ride a killer bike with a banana seat. Because she helped me believe that there was hope for a 13-year-old with glasses AND braces AND a spelling bee title. Because she endured my senseless 17-year-old rage when I misplaced some ridiculous necklace and blamed it on her 'cuz she had cleaned my room earlier in the week. Because when I returned from living in a third-world country, she ran to the gate yelling "My boy! My boy!" Because she gives an old school Tonka Mighty Dump truck to all her grandsons. And most of all, I forgive the third-grade embarrassment because she's my mom and I love her.