Moms

Today is mother's day....my family always goes out of their way to make me feel special. My kids made me the cutest cards (my boy even cried as he was making it, overwhelmed by his emotions), served me chocolate covered strawberries, croissants, coffee and a mimosa in bed!

Then, we went out for an amazing brunch (more mimosas, of course) with my mom!

I love being a mom and watching my kids grow and flourish. They make my life so much more fulfilling and give every day a purpose. But there is one person who I owe so much thanks and gratitude to for teaching me what being a good mother is all about: MOM, I LOVE YOU!

Several years ago, I used to hear familiar words come out of my mouth and I would think to myself (eyes rolling), "God, I sound just like my mother." Now, I've learned to appreciate your wisdom and know that sounding like you isn't a bad thing, but a reflection of how your values are a part of me. I'm honored to pass those along to my children and know they will do the same when it's their turn to have a family.

Your influence is far reaching! We all love you, admire you and respect you more than you will ever realize. On Mothers Day, and every day....you are a blessing!

Mom read my blog

Mom came over very late tonight just after the 4 firemen left my bedroom (I'll explain in another post once I'm over the shock) and read my blog for the first time. She read the Bullie post while I dangled the live version in front of her (then laughed as I tried to pull a hair off of it thinking it was mine then realizing it was Bullie's).

Next, she indulged and read the Gouche post. Her initial reaction? "I can't believe you girls still make fun of your Mom like this!" Then, after reading the UrbanDictionary.com definition of Gouche she looked at me square in the eye and said, "Oh my God....if I only knew then what I know now! I have such a dirty mouth and didn't even know it!"

I directed her to the comments section where my wonderful sister-in-law Leslie informed me that I forgot to mention one of Mom's most overused "fake" words: piddle (Mom's definition: to go potty, to pee). Leslie took it upon herself to look up piddle on UrbanDictionary.com and discovered it's meaning. When Mom found out that "piddle" meant fingering....well, you'll just have to click on it to read it for yourself....she said, "I am so dirty. Can you believe I used that word in public?"

After freaking out that her influence has reached such epic peaks, she walked away from the computer and said, "This is so gouche! I can't take it....I'm going piddle."

My first "real" post!

I just finished my introduction and now am posting my first real blog. I feel so high tech! Actually, aside from figuring out how to text a few months ago (my 9 year old had to show me), this is about the most high-tech thing I do! Call me Bill Gates!

What a scary proposition....putting your thoughts out in the world for anyone to see or comment on! I am looking forward to it being cathardic as I navigate through this crazy life I've built for myself. Two kids, one husband, two dogs (one is elderly one is a pup), a big house to take care of, a real estate development company (my husband mostly runs) and a race car academy (http://www.trophyracing.com/) which I am involved with.....not to mention Girl Scouts, my position as official chauffeur to all basketball & soccer practices and games and my mom who lives a few minutes from us. Whew! I'm tired just typing all this.

Speaking of Mom....it amazes me that at some point a daughter goes from being "the daughter" to "the parent." I can't even recall when it happened, but we are definitely at that stage in the mother-daughter relationship. Sometimes I just want to scream, "Hey! When do I get to cry on your shoulders? When do I get to vent? When do you step in and comfort me?" I wish I had appreciated it more when I was younger. I recall so sweetly Mom trying her hardest to get me, as a stubborn teenager, to open up and talk to her. Of course, I didn't need her because I already had all the answers (I wish)! She used to be interested in my day, who my friends were, where I was going on the weekends...and when I say "interested" I mean she would hound me until I gave her any little bit of information as to what was going on in my all-too-complicated teenage life. As a ridiculously rebellious and headstrong teen, I turned her away (all the while rolling my eyes).

I miss that inquisitive mom. The mom who wasn't afraid to stand up to me and put me in my place because sometimes I still need that. I always saw her as someone who could stand up to anyone or anything. She was never afraid, never worried. It was always "just fine." As an adult, I see how childlike it is to feel that way. At some point, we realize our parents are human beings and putting on as big a show for us as we put on for our kids. What a crazy cycle. It doesn't even make sense to change it because what gets me through the rough times are recalling my idyllic, stress-free childhood memories. At least we have that!

I know my mom is dependent on me now for her emotionall well-being, and it can be a difficult pill to swallow, but I fondly recall that strong-willed woman who, with her apron tied tightly around her waist and a fire burning brightly in her eyes, threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn't do what she told me.....because she said so!