Has anyone ever calculated all the things a mother does? I’m sure they’ve tried, but I don’t think it’s possible to write a complete job description. Just when you’ve recorded every possible thing a mother’s required to do, something new makes it onto the list.
Things like, “Teach older child not to turn on dryer when younger child is inside,” and “Teach younger child not to climb into dryer.” Not that anything like that has ever happened in my family.
The more experience I get as a mother, the more I’m in awe of my own mother. There are no words to describe how extra she is. So here, in black and white, I’d like to say thank you to her, and to all the other moms out there who make their children feel loved and important, who make sure they are warm and well-fed and clean and safe and happy.
Thank you for clean underwear in my drawer. When I was a kid, I never really knew how it got there. All I knew was, when I opened my drawer, I had clean undies and socks.
Thank you for making me breakfast every morning before I went to school, even when I refused to get up on time and made you late to work. You still made sure I had at least a banana or a piece of toast in my hand, as we rushed out the door.
Thanks for wearing panty hose with runs in them, so I could have that new pair of shoes.
Thanks for saying, “No, I don’t really care for apple pie,” when there was only one piece left. (That’s going far above the job description, in my opinion.)
Thank you for reminding me to stand up straight and look people in the eye and smile.
Thank you for telling me, again and again, that I could do anything I set my mind to. I believed you.
Thanks for not letting me get by with average, when you knew I was capable of more.
Thank you for teaching me that being kind is more important than being popular. And that the girl who doesn’t date much in high school is often the girl all the boys want to marry, once they’re out of college.
Thank you for waiting up for me when I was on a date, and acting excited to hear all the details. I knew you’d be waiting, and believe it or not, I looked forward to those girl-talks. They were fun.
Thank you for forcing me to run for freshman office, my first year of college. At the time, I thought you were pushy. But when I won the election, I was glad. I wouldn’t have had the courage to try if you hadn’t made me.
Thanks for teaching me to believe in myself.
I guess, Mom, what I’m trying to say is, thank you for being my best friend. Happy Mother’s Day.
Renae Brumbaugh Green is a bestselling author and award-winning humor columnist. She lives in Stephenville with her handsome, country-boy husband, nearly-perfect children, and far too many animals. Connect with Renae at www.RenaeBrumbaugh.com.