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Posts Tagged ‘Mommy’

        Mother’s day has be thinking about the women in my family. My mother deserves special recognition because anyone else would have probably given up when I was still young. My childhood exploits, while imaginative and entertaining, are enough to make a parent’s hair go grey. Sadly I haven’t changed nearly as much as I would like to admit. I still do stupid things in the name of adventure. My mother still remains calm through it all, how I do not know. For everything you have done for me, thank you Mom. I love you.

       When writing about my maternal grandmother, there is one story that I always feel compelled to tell. I was only about four and I decided that I wanted to be red. No, seriously, I was at my grandma’s and she had these old waxy crayons that actually wrote on skin (this wasn’t their intended purpose), so I colored myself red. I had almost finished my leg when my grandmother discovered what I was doing. I got scolded, and she told me how angry my mother would be with me. She cleaned me up, and when my mother arrived, she took her out of the room to talk to her. I expected to be yelled at and get into a lot of trouble, yet I never heard about it. I mentioned it to my mother years later and she said she had never heard about this. I then asked my grandma about it, and she just smiled. She then said something to the effect of “do you think I would get you into trouble?” Of course my mother let me know how much trouble she would have been in had she done that sort of a thing.

      My paternal grandmother passed away three years ago in January. I still miss her and probably always will. No one could ever replace her. My most vivid memory of her would be when she gave me Socrates the kitten. I can still see her walking up to the house carrying something grey and furry like it was a baby. My father hated cats. He had no say in this one though.

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A dual post for a dual purpose.
     Honestly I’ll talk about Mother’s day tomorrow as well, but I want to be ahead of schedule 
and do it now as well. I love my mom, and I don’t appreciate her enough. For anyone who reads often enough, you may recall that I wrote a post for my mother on her birthday. Most of my stories about how great my mother is involve me being a horrible child, so I’m not sure if I should really tell anymore because I might wind up with a readership that hates me, which is not my goal by any stretch of the imagination.  But I will say this, my mother is one of the best in the world. When I was growing up, she would always encourage me in my crazy adventures (as long as they didn’t lead to foreseeable disaster) and build up my overactive imagination. So this is my post for Mom, I’ll make it even better tomorrow, doing a complete tribute to my female ancestry.

In terms of honor’s day, I will just say this, it’s a great that the university appreciates its students, thus it is an appreciation day all of it’s own. I’m tired, and I plan on writing an epic post for Mother’s day, so I bid you good night. 

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I love you Mommy.

     Today is my mother’s birthday. For the sake of my longevity, we’re going to say it is her 29th, ignoring the biological impossibility. Because of her birthday, I think back to all of the memories of her. She was a very creative parent, and because of it I flourished. I can remember before I started school, anything I would do to entertain myself she would encourage. I would tell her stories and she would write them down. She read me the Constitution, The Declaration of Independence, The Gettysburg Address and the Emancipation Proclamation. I was nocturnal the first three years of my life. I provided her with constant entertainment (and many gray hairs I’m sure).  I also am reminded of all of the times when it would have been justifiable to sell me to gypsies. Like the time my best friend and I decided to turn the breezeway into  a swimming pool. (Just for the record if you ever try to do this, using water by the glass is not recommended. You get caught before you can effectively swim. Use the hose. You may get in more trouble, but at least you get more fun out of it.).
      I love my mother because she has put up with a lot from me over the years and still loves me. If the adventure described about doesn’t already give it away, I was not the average child, and so I didn’t grow up to be the average adult. My mother, and the world as well, was not ready for me, and there is nothing in parenting books on how to deal with a child who makes aquatic renovations to the home. Consequently it takes a very special mother to handle these cases. I love you Mom

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