A Letter to my Mom

Dear Mom,

First of all, Happy Mother's Day. Secondly, sorry I was your worst baby that screamed all night and slept all day and only would sleep if you were holding me while standing. When you describe me as your only "hot/cold baby" I sort of cringe inside because I think I still carry that trait. Just ask Greg.

I can't believe you spent over $10,000 on my piano lessons and sheet music. That must have been a great sacrifice since I whined about having to practice almost daily. How did you ignore my ranting without losing your patience? Teach me, because I lose my patience daily when RE whines about math homework.

I can't believe you took my measurements with your soft measuring tape, wrote them down with your perfect cursive on your mini purple legal pad, and drove for two hours to Kansas City to buy me clothes. I can just imagine you and Aunt Carolyn holding your measuring tapes up to clothes on the rack to see if they would fit us. Did I ever thank you?

Thank you for always saying I was beautiful, even during grades 3-11 when the school pictures proved otherwise. I always thought moms lied about their kids being beautiful, but I know you meant it now that I have a beautiful little buck-toothed 5th grader that thinks her pictures are ugly.

I appreciate you taking me to the color consultant the summer before 8th grade (a.k.a. The Peak of My Frail Self-Esteem) and determining that I was an Autumn. I still carry my swatches in my purse when I buy clothes. It is easier to navigate life knowing that I should wear cream instead of white, gold jewelry instead of silver, and warm tones instead of cool tones. That was a really nice motherly thing to do.

I will be forever grateful that you set the example to use things up. I can scrape a peanut butter jar better than you now. I also cut my lotion bottles in half and scoop out two extra days' worth of balm. Sometimes I save the foil from the cookie sheet just like you did after you watched the movie "Country" with Jessica Lange in 1984.

Coupons. I know who the Godmother of coupon usage is. I don't use expired coupons, Burger King coupons at Sonic, or Sonic coupons at Ethan Allen (haha), but I'm glad you did. It probably helped pay for my stinking piano lessons.

Remember how fun it was to watch the beauty pageants together? We always loved the one that had the talent competition versus just the swimsuit and ball gown competitions. Sometimes I wish I could rewind time and earn a penny a minute scratching your back while we watch "The Parent Trap" and eat lemon Soft Batch cookies late into the night.

You spent your nights brushing dogs, scrubbing pots that had soaked, balancing the checkbook to the penny and watching made-for-TV-movies. I do the same thing, except I don't wear rubber gloves for the pot scrubbing and that is why my hands are 398% less soft than yours.

I love you, Mom. And I promise I'll never call you "Jo-Jo" in public.

Love, Wass