Mamacita!

Today is my mom's birthday. The kids and I called her this morning to wish her happy birthday, and Decota informed her that she was now and old lady. When my mom said she had been one for a long time, I told her to just tell everyone she was 27- like me. She told me that, unfortunately, she did not feel 27 anymore. My poor mom. She has always felt worse than someone should, with no real explanation for why she feels that way or any helpful treatment. I know that most of her adult life has been lived in varying degrees of pain, and that she has never felt truly healthy. With all that said, I have never know a woman to tackle so many different things and complete them so above and beyond what is expected, even when she was feeling crummier than you or I could ever imagine. Whether it be as a class mom, a leader in a church calling, a homemaker, or a mother to 8; she has always made her duties seem like a piece of cake, and shocked everyone with the completely organized and breathtaking results. You want examples- OK! Birthday cakes! I can barley get the frosting to spread half way decent on a cake- my mom, on the other hand, made the most gorgeous birthday cakes- FOR 8 KIDS!!! I loved my birthday cakes- dolls in big dresses, Holly Hobby, Brut and Ernie, Minnie and Mickey (she would take on about anything I could come up with). They were the real deal, done with all the tips and all the fancy homemade frosting (I do not know how she put millions of little stars of icing all over those cakes- no wonder her hands hurt to this day)! Baking! When mom bakes it is not some wimpy cake out of the box or cookies out of a mix like me, it is full blown, made from scratch heaven. And when mom bakes it is not just one little thing- it is dozens and dozens of different kinds of cookies (cookies that the normal person never even knew existed). This summer when the kids and I were visiting she promised them she would make them a coffee cake- when I woke up in the morning there were 4! Cleaning! Come on mom, you had 8 kids. How did you keep the house spotless all the time? I don't mean it just looks clean like mine. I mean you could move any piece of furniture and find a clean floor underneath. I remember baseboards always being wiped, beds and dressers being moved to vacuum under, trashcans being washed out. Did you ever sleep? Notes! Now there are 2 different kinds of notes that I feel I must address here- notes to teachers and notes to her children. My mom was the queen of writing us notes (or maybe it was just me because I was so difficult to talk to). I can not even tell you how many times I walked into my room and found a note on my bed from my mom. I could have had a really bad day, or be really mad at my parents, and then read that special note that my mom left and feel lifted up a bit more. It was never just a quickly jotted down note; it was a thoughtful, from the heart note, written in her beautiful handwriting (I still have many of these notes tucked away in my special things file). The beautiful handwriting- that is the other part about the notes. My children's teachers can hardly read the notes I send to school with them (they never know if they went to the dentist today or delivered turkey today- I have horrible handwriting). My mom's notes were always beautiful, even in the early morning rush. It made it very hard to forge her signature (but I tried it anyway). Really, who writes in calligraphy to excuse their child from school because they had diarrhea? Young Women's! Every lesson was given with beautiful visual aides. Not some cute thing you cheat and print off the computer, homemade visual aides. When she was making a poster, she would not just write in her perfect calligraphy, she would then decorate it with cute borders of leafs or flowers. Homemade, home laminated bookmarks and quotes were always given out. Lessons where prayerful prepared and went off without hitch (even with me shooting her daggers in the background). Her New Home! She has sunk her whole being into her new house. It is so beautiful, and definitely has her touch all over the place. Every fabric has been thoughtfully picked out, every wall color has been perfectly matched, every door handle and drawer pull has been specifically picked. It has nearly killed her, but she has done an amazing job on her dream house! And the best part of it is that, after never living there, when I come visit it feels like home. There are so many more examples I could give- Relief Society meetings, Halloween costumes, flower arrangement- but I think I will conclude with MOTHERHOOD! My mom is an incredible mother. First off, she had eight kids and is still sane enough to tell-the-tale. I remember siting with her early in the morning before school started as a kindergartner eating my breakfast as she read to me about Nephi's journey. I remember laying in bed with her as she read me nursery rhymes. I remember singing to Crystal Gale, or Wham, as we did our hair in the morning. I remember her putting my hair in Princess Leah buns over and over again because I thought I was her. I remember homework over the summer, just so we didn't start the school year behind. I remember home cooked meals- always, no matter what her schedule held (and not just spaghetti, but roasts and ham). I remember watching her stand on a ladder 8 months pregnant as she wallpapered our house and quizzed me for a test. I remember her hauling all of the kids with her so she could watch me cheer at games. She always was, and still is, my biggest supporter and defender (she believes I can do anything, and she wont stand for anyone telling me differently). I think that the most incredible thing she has done is raise a whole brood of kids to love each other as much as my siblings and I do. She raised us in a house full of best friends and confidants (although, I must admit, every minute was not "love at home"). When we are near her we always know we are in a safe and secure place, in her arms we find both love and home. When my grandmother was pregnant with my mom they wanted her to have an abortion because the doctors felt that my mom would be born with disabilities and that the pregnancy was too great of a risk to my grandmother's health. Of course my grandmother rejected their advise. How grateful I am to her for that. If she had listened I would have missed out on meeting the greatest woman in my life, and would have been denied my perfect mother. 57 years ago today the world was blessed to be grace by the presence of my angle mother! Happy Birthday mom. I LOVE YOU!