Happy Birthday to my BEST MOM ever!

My mama and I are very, very close. So close that I often totally take her for granted and we sometimes completely get on each other's nerves. Still, there is no single person in the world who is more responsible for the person I have become or to whom I am more grateful. After all, she brought me into this world!

My mama is the middle of three children, with an older brother (affectionately known as UJ, or Uncle Joe) and a younger sister, Sherry. She was born and raised in Springfield, Illinois. Her father died when she was a very young child and her mother worked incredibly hard to raise 3 kids who were all under that age of 6 (I think).

She did not come from much. My mom is living proof to me that some people are just born good, hard working, and determined. She has overcome unbelievably difficult challenges to become the woman she is. She raised my brother and I alone from the ages of 7 and 3 (though some would argue she really raised us alone from birth). How she afforded to feed us is beyond me!

If I had to choose one word to describe her, well ... I couldn't. It would be impossible. Loving, loyal, giving, deep, funny, friend. She is not perfect, but she is always there. She is by far my best friend in the world. She is the one who knows in 1 second on the phone if I am sad, mad, happy, frenzied! I also cannot begin to imagine all of the things I have faced in my life without her. When I think of my mama, I think of copious amounts of food (I still think my husband may have married me for this reason alone), lots of laughs, and feelings of warmth and coziness.

When we heard the news about Max she hung up the phone and got in the car. I don't think I even choked out the words on the phone. I remember the sound of her and Jen in the hallway after Ella was delivered via emergency c-section - both had held it together for me until I was out of sight and then cried together in the hallway until they heard Ella's first cry. She is the person I never have to ask to come, she just knows. I try to be the same for her, driving through the night to Illinois the night word came that my gramma had died to be with her. I will never forget the look on her face, relief mixed with grief, that greeted me when I arrived. I hadn't told her I was coming until I was about 1 hour away because I didn't want her to worry.

She is the most amazing mother. She kept my brother and I fed, clothed and in school practically single-handedly. She was the one who started telling me from a very young age that I could (or was it would) go to William and Mary. How it would be paid for was never an issue, that I would have a college degree was a given. I remember late night rides home from my brother's basketball games. She attended every single game either of us ever played from YOUTH league on up. If she missed a game, I surely don't remember it.

She is an even more amazing grandmother. My daughter is who she is in large part due to her relationship (or genetic connection) with my mother. They are peas in a pod. There is a sweetness to their relationship that is indescribable. Max is just recently falling in love, but he's fallen pretty hard. Finally, I thought I was gonna be the favorite of SOMEONE ... nope, I think she's won out. I try to emulate her as I raise my kids. I imagine what incredible stress she must have felt worrying over the bills, doctor's appointments, school commitments, all without a partner. The beauty of her parenting was that, while surely I knew times were a bit lean, I never wanted for anything. I was oblivious to how hard it must have been until I had children of my own.

Mothering is a job that never ends. Some are far better at it than others. My mom could teach a class. I often find myself thinking what would my mama do? She wouldn't cry over split milk that is for sure!