a million miles away from my mom on mother's day

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there reading this in blogland. And to you non-moms like me, hello to you too. I was reminded of just how much we all turn out to be like our moms the other day when I was talking to my sister Jenny on the phone. She had a 3 year old little boy who didn't want to get out of bed, so she started singing, "Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! It's time to rise and shine!" It's one of the lively little songs my mom used to sing to us when we were little. Oh, how we hated that song!!! (No offense, Mom.) I was like, "OH MY WORD, JENNY! YOU SOUND JUST LIKE MOM!"

Mom had another way to wake us up. She used to play a Christian radio station, WCRF, every morning as we were getting ready. Well, the morning announcer, Uncle Bob Devine (anyone who grew up within listening range of Moody radio in Cleveland, Ohio will recognize that name), always had a big ol' marching band number that he'd play at a certain time every day and he'd say, "Hey, kids - it's time to march around the breakfast table!" This was certain to bring ugly faces and lots of complaints from yours truly because my dear sweet mother actually thought the man was for real and would make us go around the breakfast table. And she'd be cheering and clapping and yelling loud enough to wake up Amy Koch, the girl down the road. Ahhh. . . the memories.

My mom also went to every single parent teacher conference I ever had - all the way through my senior year in high school. Now folks, that takes dedication. I've been teaching school for over 10 years and I know the dropout rates of flaky moms nationwide when it comes to conferences. But my mom. . . she went. Every single time. Notebook in hand. Writing down every word that was said so she could relay the information to dad. I hated that too. I mean, come on, did she seriously think she was going to get bad news from my Advanced Math teacher???

Oh Mom, I love you. Thanks for the routine of giving us a semi-normal childhood (despite the breakfast table drama). Thanks for keeping tabs on how we were doing in school - even though I was the "smart one" - a term of endearment given to me by my dear sweet sister. Have a Happy Mother's Day.

And you too, Jenny. I wish you more and more beautiful pictures like the one Hannah drew of you. Without being too graphic, folks, she drew her with breasts. (My sister is so going to kill me, but I can't help it. I have to post this picture.) Sorry, it's not too good - Jenny emailed it with her cell phone. But is it not the funniest thing ever?