In Retrospect

Parents are pretty awesome. Today for Mother's Day, I'd like to highlight all the awesome stuff I've come to realize about my parents (but mostly my mom. Sorry, Dad, your time will come) and all the things they have to put up with when raising children (or dealing with other adults).

I never realized how much of a pain in the butt picky eaters are until I tried to cook for one, and/or take one out to dinner at a nice restaurant. How on earth so you respond when a grown adult starts picking the green things out of her pasta in the middle of a crowded room? Growing up I was (and kind of still am) a picky eater. If it wasn't macaroni and cheese from a cardboard box, I didn't want to eat it. Many a night was spent wishing I had magical dairy powers to turn those weird green things into happy day-glo orange noodles. Alas, I had to become a respectable person instead. Cooking for others is difficult enough without someone adding the unpleasant commentary of "Uhhhhh.... so what's that? Is it spicy? I can't eat it if it's spicy."

Moms are your walking, talking, personal day-planner. Except that they aren't color coded, and tend to resent being called such things. As an adult you realize that suddenly you have to keep track of your own doctor's appointments, class schedule and planning, wardrobe, cleaning, etc etc etc. Calendars just never seem to suffice - the boxes aren't big enough to contain the joy of a trip to New York in the same month as the end of school. Somehow only a mom can keep track of their own schedules and that of their husband and children. Go moms!

Unconditional love. What kind of person still loves you when you break the dinnerware, make a mess of your room and refuse to clean it, pout, fuss, and steam your way all across the house in a right tizzy. Moms; that's who. They might not like you very much when you whine all day about your chores ("Whyyyyyyy do I have to clean the kitchen??") but they'll always love you.

The wisdom to keep your mouth shut is painful - people will tell you their problems and just expect you to nod sympathetically and say "poor baby" a few times in appropriate places. Some people just aren't receptive to the comment of "well maybe if you hadn't spent all of your money on potato chips you would have some to spend on those shoes you wanted." Many times when I received a response like this I got to practice my pouting ability. I was very good at it. My mother, more often than not, gave the appropriate responses all pre-teens and teens want, and tried to keep her 20/20 hindsight out of my view. Generally people don't care to hear how they could either solve their problems or avoid them in the future; they just want to complain.

So thanks, Mom. Thanks for the nineteen years of wisdom and love and benign neglect. Thanks for not sending me to summer camps, and repeatedly prying me away from the television and out into the sunshine. Thanks for instilling in me a sense of moral values and a good set of table manners. Thanks for teaching me how to behave in public, and giving me a wonderful role model.

Thanks, Mom.

Happy Mother's Day.