Behind every great woman is a great mom.
You could be having a day where you woke up with a post nasal drip, made a potentially awful mistake on a school document, had your kids chit chat through your lessons for the fourth day in a row, had one decide that five pennies is not enough in math and throw them across the room, had two meetings after school, and drove home wondering if you have narcolepsy (guilty, guilty, guilty)…and your mom can make you feel like the biggest rockstar in the world.
My mom’s voice feels like a hug when I’m frustrated, a song when I’m excited, or a secret when I’m petty. She is my favorite pop culture tea spiller, my favorite confidante when I’m lost, my favorite audience when I’m silly, and my favorite role model for female strength and independence.
She tries to claim that most of my most admirable traits are a result of having great women as grandmothers, and that most of my ailments or shortcomings are a result of her biology or parenting. Let me just set the record straight:
She makes me feel important. She makes me feel strong. She makes me feel proud to be myself. I lost my grandmothers when I was very young, so as far as I can see, my fabulous self is all thanks to her.
This slice does not quite do justice to my mom, dear reader, but I’m sure you already knew that.