A Tribute to Mothers I Know..

Here, in case anyone had any doubt whatsoever, are just a few of the many, many reasons that mothers deserve to be celebrated on Sunday. Dads/ Husbands/ Children: if you haven’t come up with anything yet for Sunday, pull it together and do some shopping. God only knows what your mother has had to deal with from you, but I’ll bet money she deserves a pedicure for putting up with it.

1. My mother the saint has seen the 5 of us through 1 broken foot, 1 broken nose, a couple of broken hands, several concussions, mono, 2 teeth driven back into the gums, stitches galore and an appendectomy (which my mom refused to believe was anything but a hangover until my sister’s appendix actually ruptured). I will say that she was notoriously unsympathetic… but I suppose we all healed, so maybe she right and there really WAS nothing worth crying about.

2. My sister Betsy has 4 kids, whose activities include– but are not limited to– baseball, football, volleyball, track, horseback riding, basketball, softball, and abusing cell phone privileges. She lives 5 minutes away from me and I literally saw her once in the last 3 months. As far as I know she sleeps in the car.

3. Another friend of mine called me this morning and said with a sigh, “My day care just called; they have a lice outbreak.” Enough said.

4. My own husband, at the age of ten, once yelled at his mother, “You can’t tell me what to do!!!!!!!!” Kathy– on behalf of myself and my kids: thank you, for not killing him right then and there.

5. Finally, a story from my own house, which I think sums it all up nicely: I took out the jar of pickle spears not long ago, only to discover that someone nibbled all the pickles down to the rind, then put the rinds back into the jar. I cannot comment on the allegation that a guest in my house may have eaten one or two before I realized what was up.

And this is such a short list of why moms deserve to be recognized. Being a mom is joyful, difficult, fun, tedious, backbreaking, rewarding stuff. Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who have their own stories to tell. And thanks to Cameron, Gabby and Addison, who are the reason I have pickle rinds in my refrigerator.

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