July 17, 2008

• Thank you, Mom

  Our baby girl is at the stage where she puts everything into her mouth.
  Even weird bad stuff. The worse is when I turn around and see her
  chewing on something, and I know I haven’t given her any food. It’s
  usually some small piece of something that fell on the floor. Gross!
  Yesterday, as I checked our baby’s mouth again for the upteenth time
  with her wailing unhappily at me because I was removing the special
  treasure she had found, I said, “You’ll thank me one day.” But then I
  realized that she probably won’t. I mean, can you imagine. “Mama Mary
  Ann, thank you for keeping me from eating gross stuff off the floor.”
  That never dawns on any kid, really. Well, except today.

  Today, on my birthday, I wanted to thank my mom:

  Thanks, Mom, for all the times you kept me from putting bad stuff in my
  mouth. Thanks for all those times you saved me from touching things I
  shouldn’t have — because it might’ve hurt me. Thanks for keeping me
  from falling down and hitting my head on hard surfaces. Thanks for
  picking me up and carrying me around, even when you had your hands full
  of something else. Thanks for hunching down to hold my hand so that you
  could help me learn to walk – even though it probably hurt your back
  and, many times, would’ve been a lot faster for you to just carry me
  from place to place. Thanks for feeding me, spoon-feeding me, as
  tiresome as it might’ve been. Thanks for picking up the food off the
  ground that I threw and for wiping my mouth and my runny nose. Thanks
  for giving me baths every day and changing my poopy diapers (even
  though it stunk so bad you wanted to throw up). Thank you, Mom, for the
  sleep you had to lose as you watched over me in my sleep and woke up in
  the middle of the night to feed me. Thank you for sacrificing your own
  sleep time when I was napping so that you could take care of things
  around the house or get ready for me when I woke up again. Thank you,
  Mom, especially for letting me invade your body for 9 months and making
  you feel sick all the time and uncomfortable – and especially for the
  pain of child birth. Without you, there would be no ‘me’ here today as
  I am. Happy Day to you, not me, for a miracle and thirty years of
  selfless dedication. I love you, Mom!

  
  A picture of Mom and me, making a snowman a few months ago.

  • 6:21 pm
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