Happy Birthday, Mom!

Sep 26, 2012 17:10




Don't let that plastic fool you into thinking that's a store bought pie or anything!

My mom and dad came over for a visit the other day and we decided to celebrate her birthday a few days early.  She and Eliza got it into their heads that they wanted pie (but not fruit pie) for dessert so I ended up driving across God's green Earth trying to find one.  My go-to pie place had a gorgeous line-up of cream pies in their case, but they were all sugar-free, and to me, if you're going to eat pie, it better be P.I.E.  Two more stores later I finally snagged a French Silk, but who knew that the simple act of buying a pie was going to be such an expedition?  I suspect that deep down it was a small bit of payback on the part of my mom for all those years that I made her log 5,000 billion miles on her Toyota Corona for things like hitting twelve stores in six suburbs for the perfect prom dress!

My mom and I have a complicated relationship.  I have learned to accept that she and I are going to be a lot more like Shirley Maclain and Debora Winger in "Terms of Endearment" than Sally Field and Julia Roberts in "Steel Magnolias".  I'm fairly certain that if I were to find myself on my deathbed ahead of her she'd make sure I was properly attended to, but she would also take full advantage of my incapacitated state to mention how my hair really looks so much better with more highlights.  Then again, it's that sort of misguided opining that endears her to me (at the same time that it makes me want to scream).

Despite all the ways she makes me crazy, I have to let you in on a secret...

There have been at least a half dozen times over the last couple months - in dealing with my own endlessly frustrating teens and teens-to-be - where I have thought to myself, "How the hell did my mom do this?  How did she know when to ignore me and when to intervene?  How did she and my dad decide on rules?  How did she know what would work?  More importantly....How did she not kill me?"  I have been embroiled in so many hair tearing moments with my kids that it's taken all of my strength not to pick up the phone and tell my mom, "You win."  Because seriously?  Now that I have the benefit of hindsight, I have perfect 20-20 vision.  The epiphany that my mother probably prayed for when she was deep in the trenches of raising my brother and I has indeed finally happened.  All those times I thought my mom was an unfair nag who didn't really love me, she was exactly the opposite.  My pride is still too delicate to make the concession directly to her, but I'll say it here:  my mom is a saint.

Of course one day, possibly on my deathbed, I'll tell her in person ---- probably right before she tells me that I look like I've gained a few pounds.

Happy birthday, Mom!  I love you!

OXOX
ME

happy birthday, good stuff

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