Mam Pants

Where do I even start with Mother? Do I start with all the material she has given me (like literally, she knew this post was coming and she emailed me ideas)? Do I explain how we are very alike in certain ways? Do I say how good she looks for being some age between 50 and 60 but closer to 60? Hmmmmm......

Oh hell, I'll start with my younger/more embarrassing days. Growing up, I always had a miss-my-mom problem. I couldn't spend the night at peoples' houses until 4th grade or something ridiculous because I thought something bad would happen to Mother while I was gone. I tried sleeping at my Anut's house more than once and I threw up every.single.time. I would almost make it to bed and then I would make myself sick with worry. It definitely was NOT on purpose. Even if my Sissy was there I couldn't bare the thought of being without Mother. It was awful! Mostly it was awful though because it always veal parmesan tv dinner that Anut let me eat.

So obviously, I love my Mom. We understand each other. My Ma has funny things going on in her brain like me. We each have a hard time with "left" and "right" and we each have husbands that aren't very forgiving about that. (I already talked nicely about them so know I can say that.) We understand each other though and it is nice to know someone gets what you are trying to say even if you can't get the words out. We will be driving in Seattle, and I'll be all, "go that way toward the water" and I'll point. She knows just to look and go that way. We have good sense of direction, seriously, we just have a hard time communicating it.

Best pic of Mother I have ever seen.

With that scary thought of brain farts, I would like to announce Mother was my primary 5th grade teacher. *Fun fact: Sissy and I were homeschooled for one year when we were little but then we realized we weren't a) religious b) dorks.* Ma worked at a high school and Sissy and I would get to go there and learn math off laser discs. You know, those things that are 46 times the size of a dvd. Other than that and reading a ridiculously huge orange book, I don't really remember doing much work but I do remember going places. Which, if you ask Mother, is the important part. But..that only lasted a year, everyone was ready to not have to spend 24-7 together.

Some other things that make me love Mother and miss her are:

8)  She was lead majorette in high school and has the salute hands to prove it.

7)  The fact that she will take care of me when I am sick. She will tell me how precious I am and get me any popsicles I need. Now, she won't drive to the store to get them, she will just use what is on hand. Another good trait...resourceful.

6)  Mother likes to tell stories. It is prefect when you don't like to talk much.

5)  Ma knows that I am NOT a morning person. She will not ask questions when she knows it might just turn ugly. That is one of life's biggest lessons when living with me.

4)  Mother loves her boat and taught me how to waterski. One ski. 'Nuff said.

Not the right kind of skiing but still, she taught me this kind too.

3)  Mother talks to my dead grandmother. I think Grammie has come back as a crow. But as a crow, Grammie is very helpful and when you find that front row parking spot, a blouse in your size and color at Value Village, or that infection finally went away, Mother is sitting there thanking Grammie. Grammie has Ma's back. I know my Ma will have mine too in the far, far future.

Ma, "showing" Grammie Hawaii. Yes, that is a plastic baggie with ashes.

2)  Chore List. I would like to say that I did hella chores whilst young. I vacuumed, emptied dishwashers, cleaned the counters, cleaned the stove, cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed showers, washed the car, dusted, and pretty much had the lick the toilets clean because of the chore list Mother left. Every.Day. She almost got away with me not mentioning it but I cried about it enough that it is going on the blog. The reason it made the "nice" list though is because it actually did teach me how to clean. In the end, I am glad I know how to clean but lord have mercy on me!

Don't mind the blond streaks.

1)  My Mom comes and deep cleans my house about once or twice a year. I get too bogged down trying to lick the toilets clean to get to the fridge.

My mom just plain gets me. I am the first born who didn't get the brains or the height and Mother finds pity in that and just loves me. I am thankful for the Momma I have and I wouldn't ask for another one, even one that didn't force me to do housework like f-ing Cinderella.

p.s. Mother has previously been mentioned as Mrs. Pedemonte because she had a cobbler, or some shoemaker, that was named Pedemonte. She always liked it. But it doesn't fit so it is back to Mom, Mam, and Mommy.


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Previous Family Members: Dad, Mr Pepperworth