I mean, I have a Mother. And a really amazing one. She’s the kindest, most generous person I know. And I will always want to make her proud of me. Her heart is the size of a beach ball, and her capacity to love, surpasses any living human’s. She is beautiful. Her teeth are white as snow. And her joyful spirit will always be that of a fun 29 year old.
My sister is also a Mother. And a great one. With a full-time job, and two little’ns under the age of three. She never sleeps, she travels for work, and somehow she never turns the page to “raging homicidal maniac”.
Many of my friends are also Mothers. I see their adorable, messy, hilarious photos and updates online. Once in a while, witnessing them in action. They are amazing women, each unique and strong and perfectly imperfect.
Truly, I am in awe of them. I couldn’t do what they do.
I can barely do what I do.
We used to “make my Mom breakfast in bed” (thanks to my Dad) on Mother’s Day, and then sit too close to her and watch her drink fresh OJ and a muffin or something. We had long since before, eaten too many bowls of Fruit Loops, because we had already been up for 15 hours, because we were kids, and our job was to be annoying. Sleeping in? What was that! The sun was lazy compared to us! UGH, why is this orange juice thing taking forever!
In the days leading up to Mom’s Day this year, I definitely watched too many diamond commercials, stabbing at my last remaining heart-string, “IF YOU’RE WORTH ANYTHING IN LIFE, YOU GET A DIAMOND, YOU STUPID IDIOT!” with swooning, mushy-hearted men who would never exist in real life and not one day come out as unapologetically gay. Continue reading