Feature Friday-My Mother

 
Feature Friday-My Mother

Today I will feature the lady that gave me the big blue eyes, (Although mine are greener) and my passion for pink, my mother. Sometimes it is hard to write about those closest to you because it is so very personal. My mother is that teacher that all the kids want to be in her classroom when they are in 2nd grade and who they write about then they are seniors reminiscing on their favorite teacher. She even had a parent publish a story about her because she was her hero. My mother is an advocate for the learning disabled children because she dealt with two of her own. She is very good at explaining to the parents what their child is going through and helping them deal with the emotions that comes with finding out your child is not the "perfect student". She was my brother's and my advocate when it came to dealing with the schools and getting us our accommodations.

When I was growing up my mother was a stay at home mom. I think she was happiest then. She did not have a car during the day and I don't know how she did it. She was the room mom, the PTA mom and volunteered for the kids department at our church. Again, I am not sure how she did it all. She was very creative with entertaining us because there was not a lot of money for extras when we were little. One day when we got home from school she had turned our swing set into a pirate ship by hanging sheets over it. Then in the front she had pulled my dad little silver boat for us to slide down the slide into. Across the front of the boat she leaned two old tires and they were spray painted red & white. (Why we had tires in our back yard I don't know and I swear we did live in a junked up yard.) I did not have a Barbie house, so we used books to create one. She sewed my clothes and made all of our Halloween costumes. When I was a kid the store bought Halloween costumes were cheep plastic covers that tied around your back with then plastic masks. Those would just no do for us; ours were way fancier than that. My favorite was the year I was a car hop, just like on the cover of American Graffiti. I also grew up singing with my mother. We sang at Christian Women's Club events and at church. This was until we would argue about who was going to be the one who would sing the harmony. (I am still a better alto now.)

My mother took care of all of the details of my life. Even as a freshman in high school I would go to get ready for the football games and my dance uniform would be laid out on my bed with all of the coordinating pieces. I am not that mom. My I get frusterated with keeping up with all of my song’s baseball uniform. I loved prom dress shopping every year. Especially my Jr. Year when she talked my dad into letting me get the green sequined mermaid dress that was way over the budget that was set. She helped make every details of prom special. She packed an after prom picnic for my date and I, with sparkling cider and homemade chocolate covered strawberries for. Then after each dance no matter what time I got home she wanted to hear all of the details of the night. She wanted to know what people wore, what they said about my dress. She loved the romantic details of my teen years. Looking back now I get that she was checking in on what I had been up to, but it never felt like that. It was like telling a girlfriend about these special moments. Each year we had the swimsuit fight because my father's rule was no two pieces. Finally, my Sr. year she made my dad take me shopping so he could deal with it, since it was his rule. Then she was mad because he took me to Academy and let me get a two piece she would have been in trouble buying for me. Now she buys my girls bathing suits, half the time they are two piece suits. Totally not fair!

My great grandparents lived on a farm and my mother had the best childhood memories of growing up playing on the farm when she would stay with them in the summer. She does things now to create those types of memories for my kids. She has a huge Santa collection that she puts out every Christmas. Her back yard is one of their favorite places to be. She has a wooden playscape and had a pit put around it so she could fill it with pea gravel. Just like the pea gravel she played in at Granny and Pa's house.

I credit my mother for my need to make all things beautiful. Our love for pink roses, bright colors and all things shinny and gaudy is what we share. But I prefer to use the term, "whimsical". She always had her hair fixed and did not leave the house without her makeup on. Her closet is full of a bright colored wardrobe, much like mine. Although my mother can decorate and make flower arrangements and I can only give my opinion. I can come up with beautiful creative ideas but it is lost in the execution. Her mums that she made each year were prettier and fancier than any store bought ones. She made my wedding beautiful and being 19 at the time, I let her. Our only wedding fight was that I wanted my bride's maids to come into Tara's Theme from Gone With the Wind. She thought it would break up the flow of a very religious ceremony. My dad settled it by suggesting I leave to Tara's theme at the end of the ceremony and it was perfect. She also threw us the best birthday parties on small budgets. She was so creative. The best one that some of my friends still talk about was, the Cabbage Patch birthday. Every guest got a picture frame and she took pictures of each of us with our faces in the cabbage leaves like the Cabbage Patch logo. It was the prettiest frilliest birthday party a little girl could imagine. I get that from her too.

I came to the conclusion a long time about and released the standard a long time ago when I became a mother. I am not my mother. She was happiest when she had her babies at home with her. She kept up with everything around the house and all of our schedules. I felt the walls closing it when I first got to stay at home with my kids. The week I did not have a car at home I thought someone was going to die. Please don't ask me to teach children's Sunday school or lead the children's choir like my mother did. I found out I am not the mom my mother was.

I would not trade my mother for anyone else's mom because she is mine. I credit my drive and confidence to my father but my beauty and heart were placed there by my mother. I am the woman, the mother, and the wife because of the mother that God gave me.