When I think back to when I was a little girl, I remember how I always had this vision in my head of a husband, kids, our own home, and myself taking care of it all. I always knew I would become a stay at home mom… always. When I think about where I got this crazy AWESOME idea from, I immediately think of my mother.
My mother was (and still is) a saint. She literally did everything for my brother and me. Even though she worked until I was about 5, I barely remember because every second she had with us she spent on us. I don’t ever remember her not being there for our every need whether it was reading me every book in my bookcase before bed or having to explain to EMS how her 5 year old daughter convinced her 3 year old son to jump off the 10th stair on the staircase. A SAINT.
Every night she would come tuck us in bed and she would rub my back and whisper “go away bad dreams, stay good dreams” over and over until I fell asleep. This continued into my high school years except back rubs turned into bitch sessions and hugs of comfort.
When I think of my mom, I think of all the times she let me yell at her and take out my teenage angst on her because I “KNEW EVERYTHING and she’d never understand!” And when I was done she would either let me storm out or she’d offer me a hug…. all without an argument back. I think of how I made her cry but she never blamed me or made me cry back. There’s that sainthood coming out again…
When I think of my mom I think of a chauffeur. That woman drove us EVERYWHERE. Dance a million times a week, baseball, dance, basketball, football, dance, football games, dance, friend’s houses, track meets, dance. Did I mention dance? I did a lot of dance. For at least half of my life my mom has been shuffling us to one place or another; often times dropping me off to go drop off my brother to then come pick me up and immediately leave to pick up said brother. Can you say saint?!
When I think of my mom I think of how she fed us the healthiest food you could get into a kid. Tofu, vegetables, yogurt that I was convinced was ice cream, WHEAT GERM. That’s right. Wheat germ. And I ate it too. Ate it right up. Because mom said it was yummy and who doesn’t trust mom?
When I think of being a mother I think of my mom. I think back on all those fond (and not so fond) memories. All the times she scooped me up from falling or drying my tears after getting hurt. All the times she helped me with my homework or cursed me for telling her I needed to take apart and glue onto a piece of paper a REAL gerber daisy the night before it was due.
When I think of how I should be a mother, I think of how she was. She is the ultimate example of what a mom is.
Now I’m a mom. A mom to 3 crazy, rambunctious little boys. When I think of disciplining them, my mom comes out. When I think of dinner, my mom comes out. When I think of exhaustion, my mom comes out. But instead of cringing when I hear her voice or a phrase she always said, I think to myself, “thank God you’re here mom because I’m about to lose my mind!”
So when I think of how I always knew I wanted to be where I am: with a husband, kiddos, our own home, and me as boss, I think of my mom and how I’m here because of what I witnessed her do on a daily basis. Though there were many days that were tough, she made it look flawless and made it look like I could do it; piece of cake. Thanks mom. Thanks for setting me up to think I could handle this ?
In honor of Mother’s Day, our contributing writers are reflecting back on favorite memories of their own moms. Enjoy these stories of what these daughters loved and learned.
Read more Memories of Mom stories and perspectives from Corpus Christi area moms.