I don't know why people bother pro-creating. I truly don't. It is a thankless job that, providing you've done it correctly, doesn't really payoff until you're too senile to see the results.
I'm 36 years old and while I know I've thanked my mother a multitude of times, I've just as equally hated on her and disrespected her. Yes, both as an adolescent AND as an adult. Not something I'm proud of, but it is what it is.
She has been supportive of my hair brained schemes. She's held her own eyelid down to keep the twitching at bay while I flung television remotes, Tupperware sugar storage bins, telephones, books, and so much more in her direction. Her ears have heard some terribly awful accusations and shrieks of teenage angst. Her eyes have read words that cut through her to the core or sent chills down her spine. I know she's stayed up nights worried about me, my babies, or me and my babies...
Thank you, mama. Thank you for all the terrible things I've put you through, for standing beside me when I had nothing to give you in return. Thank you for not answering "yes" when the obstetrician asked if you were there for a full term abortion (yay 1982!) Thank you for giving me someone to roll my eyes to when you go from calm to manic in 6 seconds or less. Thank you for playing the devil on their shoulder to my children and then sending them home to wreak havoc.
Thank you for being my mama.
I'm 36 years old and while I know I've thanked my mother a multitude of times, I've just as equally hated on her and disrespected her. Yes, both as an adolescent AND as an adult. Not something I'm proud of, but it is what it is.
She has been supportive of my hair brained schemes. She's held her own eyelid down to keep the twitching at bay while I flung television remotes, Tupperware sugar storage bins, telephones, books, and so much more in her direction. Her ears have heard some terribly awful accusations and shrieks of teenage angst. Her eyes have read words that cut through her to the core or sent chills down her spine. I know she's stayed up nights worried about me, my babies, or me and my babies...
Thank you, mama. Thank you for all the terrible things I've put you through, for standing beside me when I had nothing to give you in return. Thank you for not answering "yes" when the obstetrician asked if you were there for a full term abortion (yay 1982!) Thank you for giving me someone to roll my eyes to when you go from calm to manic in 6 seconds or less. Thank you for playing the devil on their shoulder to my children and then sending them home to wreak havoc.
Thank you for being my mama.
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