I woke up this morning with nothing to say. Mainly because I really, really wanted to be pregnant today. But then, something changed. I’m not pregnant, I am not yet a mother… But my mom, she’s been a mother for 24 years. There are about a thousand things I want to blurt out here, but I can’t. Suffice it to say, before I start really writing this blog to my mother on Mother’s Day that, a friend shed some beautiful words of wisdom yesterday… he said… “If you really, really, REALLY want something… the universe will undoubtedly give it to your best friend.” On so many levels of my life, I feel like I’m in some kind version of God’s “Punk’d'”, and as much as I love Ashton Kutcher, I hate this game. It’s like in 3rd grade when Britney had a birthday pool party and didn’t invite me. The whole fucking world is swimming in Britney’s (name changed, because I’m not a total asshole) pool right now. Well guess what, Britney? Your mom is a bitch, and you’ll end up shoveling horse shit for the rest of your life. Wish I knew the end to that story when I was 8 years old. Which is exactly what I’m sure I’ll be saying later in life, when I’m super happy and grateful that everything didn’t happen the way I tried to force it to. Which I think might have been exactly what my mom told me when I was 8 years old. I’m pretty sure I recall this exact conversation:
MAAAAWMMM Britney didn’t invite me to her pool party birthday party!!
Don’t worry honey, her mom is a bitch. She’ll end up shoveling horse shit for the rest of her life, and then you’ll be glad she never invited you to her party and that I took you to Marshall Scotties instead. Trust me.
– I don’t know why I don’t ALWAYS just trust her when she says that. Because she’s ALWAYS right. She gave me a leash so long, I definitely hung myself– plenty of times. But that is what is great about my mom, she let me be who I was and learn what I needed to. I owe everything I have become to her, because without her ability to let me go, I wouldn’t be such a free spirit today. While other mothers were trying to shelter their kids and force them to learn what they believed was right, she was just hanging out, letting me run wild. She never checked my emails, or read my diary or pestered me about who I was seeing or what I was doing. She trusted me. So when the other girls were out sleeping around and doing all kinds of shady things, I trusted myself. I only went as far as I wanted, and only did the things I felt comfortable doing. Regardless of what everyone else was doing to rebel against their parents, I didn’t feel the need to do things to spite my mom. That’s how I ended up being the last of all my friends to have sex, and the only of all my friends to not do drugs.
When things got tough for me in high school, she knew that I needed to get away from San Diego. I was bonding with people I shouldn’t and I was falling apart at the seams. It was only a matter of time before my environment got the best of me and if I didn’t find a new set of friends I would end up with herpes and a coke problem.
We all decided, as a family, that I needed to go to boarding school. How hard must that have been for her? She had to watch her oldest baby pack up and leave for another state, 3,000 miles away. She had to leave me there, at my dorm, and say “Goodbye”. I can’t even imagine how difficult that was. She must have known how beneficial it was going to be for me, but jezz, what a choice. I am eternally grateful for her strength in allowing me to go and become who I am. Maybe she knew that if I stayed I would end up a stripper, and that thought was probably much more frightening than the thought of missing me for a few years.
So, I went. I remember a day- early on- when I was crying because it was picture day and it was raining and my hair was frizzy and there was nothing I could do about it. I was running late and slipped in the mud and got all dirty. I ended up having a legitimate nervous breakdown and sobbing in front of my hot English teacher for like thirty minutes before he allowed me to go back to my dorm. I get that he wanted me to tough it out and deal with things like an adult, but I was not getting near a camera with an afro and a dirty polo shirt. I made it home and started writing in my online journal about how much I hate my life, nothing was getting better, everything was getting worse and most of all I missed my mom. I remember having Something Corporate on repeat and looking out the window at the dreary day and wishing I was with my mom. Then the phone rang and it was her. I wasn’t even supposed to be in my dorm, but I think she knew something was wrong. I’m like, 90% sure the conversation went like this:
Mom, I hate it here. I hate my dorm mates, I hate the teachers, I hate Abercrombie & Fitch and I hate being here. Can I come home now?
I hate Abercrombie & Fitch too, sweet heart, but no. You have to stay. Give it some time.
-She was right. She is always right. I’m so glad I waited it out. I still hate Abercrombie & Fitch, but I look back on those years and am so grateful that my mom was strong enough to make me stay. She was strong enough for the both of us.
I know that today is bitter sweet for both of us. I know how much I love my mom, and I know how much my mom misses her mom. The extent to which we both loved my grandma is outrageous, its Earth shattering really, how awesome she was. I know that she gave my mom the strength to be the woman she is. It’s the circle of life here, all panning out before my very eyes. We only have one life, (I’m restraining myself from inserting a YOLO joke here), and in that life we are supposed try and get it all right so that we can come out the other side proud of what we did. No one can get it ALL right, but in my eyes my mom has done everything right for me.
I’ve had such a great life and if it was all over today- I would be grateful most of all for my mom. She’s the one person who won’t ignore my phone calls. I inherited her manly hands and freckles and my ability to write what I think and not give a shit what anyone says, from her.
When I had my miscarriage I was trying so hard not to be sad, because I like to pretend like everything is fine no matter what. I hate crying in front of anyone (besides Louie, but that’s usually just fake crying because I want something) and when I told her she let me carry on for a little while… walking around the house aimlessly, doing things to keep myself busy. Then she came up to me and hugged me and I just broke down. There is no where in the world that is more safe than in my mothers arms, and I am so lucky that she loves me so much. I’m so lucky that somehow, in this big huge universe, I am her daughter. We were meant for each other, without a doubt. That’s why today, I won’t sit around and be pissed off that everyone is a mom, besides me. Because I am going to listen to my mom today, for once. And be grateful that I have an awesome husband and TWO awesome mom’s (because Louie’s mom is like my second mother, and I am so grateful she made such a wonderful boy and even though I’m probably not who she saw marrying her perfect son she accepts me for who I am and loves me anyway) and one day I’ll be a mom. But until then, I’m just happy I have a mom. So many people on this planet aren’t as lucky as me.
My life is overflowing with love, I sometimes think my heart is going to explode with love (or my ADHD meds, I sometimes can’t tell the difference) and I want to share it with the world.
I will part with you now, with a story. An imaginary story. Once a psychic told my mom and I that we were pirates together in another life (which makes so much sense, its ridiculous). I can see us now, setting sail on the open sea. The sun on the horizon and a bottle of rum to share. Some harlot skallywagged my gold coins and I’m pissed off. I go to my pirate mom and I’m like:
Argh, matey. I hate this stinkin ship. I hate this beard and everyone smells. I almost lost my leg on that there rope over there in last nights storm and that slut stole my gold and my goatee beads when I was sleeping.
Well, shiver me timbers, that sure does stink. Just wait it out, little pirate man, we’re almost to the promise land. You’ll find yer first mate soon enough. And when ye do, you’ll feel like the richest man in the land. Now, pass me the rum because this here boat smells like an old boot.