We all have a hero or two. I'm not talking about a superhero like Spiderman or Elastigirl, I mean a real person who we look up to. For me, that hero is my mom.
I was not an easy child. When I was a baby I had something called colic. It meant I cried pretty much whenever I was awake. My poor mom had me second, so she was already dealing with a toddler when I can along and made her life crazy. Fortunately for me, she was able to handle the pressure and we all survived just fine. To hear her tell it, I got much happier when I was able to crawl and walk on my own, but that wasn't until I was about eight months old.
Of course, we all have a few bumps in the road of childhood and I was no exception. My mother brought me clean clothes at school a few times for embarrassing accidents involving mud, paint and one time a trip to the bathroom that came too late. (Hey! I was really little!) She also managed to make sure I had the right colors to wear on field days and the right kind of cupcakes for my friends on my birthday. These things are important when you're six.
The Teen Years
Perhaps the hardest my mother works are during my teen years. I love being a teenager, but I'm pretty sure my mother hates it. For some reason, I always seem to be insulting and rude to my mom when I don't mean to. Sure, she may not be the height of fashion or have a clue about what teenagers are doing these days, but she does try.
I don't give her enough credit sometimes. She allows me to drive her car, which is scary even for me. She gives me money to buy clothes and works very hard to understand why I didn't buy the outfit she would have picked out. She is always friendly to my boyfriend of the moment, even if she really didn't need to be. (I've picked out some real winners, believe me.) I can't even imagine what goes on in her head when she watches me living my own life.
The Softer Side
I'll admit I'm not a very soft person. Some people are so lovely and caring to everyone, well that's not me. I'm not into a lot of hugging and I don't tell everyone how much I love them on a regular basis.
I do wish I was like that, but something in me just doesn't seem to come with the cuddly, loving teddy bear gene.
Despite this, I always try to find a way to tell my mom how much I do love and appreciate her, even if I can't always find the right words. Sure, I could run out and buy a card or a bunch of flowers, but that doesn't have the same weight as a more personal gift.
This year, I'm thinking of staying home for an entire day (a big deal for me) and just hanging out with my mom. I'm going to bake her some brownies – maybe the kind with frosting, and kick back and do whatever she wants. I know she wishes we could spend more time together, so this year I'll give her the easiest, yet hardest, gift of all – my complete, undivided attention. She probably won't know what to do with all that time and devotion, but that's okay. She and I will both know I'm doing it because I love her so much.