the adventures of a crazy girl: A Beautiful Woman

(Just a side note: I'm not doing this for brownie points, seeing as this special lady does not believe in my blog. She says, "Why would you want to post intimate parts of your life on the Internet for others to creep on?" "Mom, you do the same thing on Facebook." "Yeah, and look how much I use that. I just like it to make sure the kids aren't being stupid.")

If you can't tell, this post is dedicated to my mama. No, its not Mother's Day. But I was trying to think up something to write about while she was trying to slip two tiny hoops into my ear piercings that she doesn't approve of. With reading glasses and a growing headache, she still persisted in helping me with something I was unable to do for myself. She loves me that much.

I have so many examples of her absolute love and grace that I could fill an entire book.

She followed me around the house diaper-less during potty training, she tamed my unruly hair, and she could only laugh when I covered myself and my next-door neighbor with her lipstick.

When I started rapidly losing weight in middle school, and couldn't keep anything down, she was there beside me with a bucket and glass of water. She was the only one who believed I wasn't doing that to myself, that I was sick. She even suggested it was Crohn's before the doctors realized I wasn't bulimic.

And even now, she knows that I am a woman (she called me this herself just yesterday), but also recognizes that I still need help and advice on somethings. I do my laundry, but she helps me with the tricky stains; I get the kids to church on Sunday mornings, but she checks to see that I'm awake before leaving for choir practice; she knows that I can take care of myself at school and keep my grades up, but she still calls every now and then to make sure I'm keeping my mental sanity and have left the library to get some sleep.

This appreciation for her hasn't always been around though. In third grade I remember being embarrassed of the woman picking me up from school in yellow shorts, carrying two kids in a backpacker's pack, and with blonde hair from a box. But looking back, I realize all that this lady had to juggle. I know I wouldn't be able to do it as well as she. When any of us kids, or even Dad for that matter, decide that we're not in a good mood and throw a fit, she always calm and willing to work with us (I, on the other hand, am not this nice. If you are being a turd, I'm going to treat you as such and get fed up.)

I have so many lessons to learn from her, and I am so lucky to still have the time to do so.