ode* to my mother

Last year, around Mother's Day, I posted about what women want.

 Part of me wants to re-post it - because the truth hasn't changed. 

But this year, social media {Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest} and real-life conversations have been blowing up around snippets mothers have received from their littles in which kids are asked to fill-in-the-blank about their mother. 

For example:

My mother is __ years old
My mom weighs __ pounds

My mom always says __
My mom cooks the best __

My mom laughs when __

If my mom had more time, she would love to __

I love my mom because__

It reminds me of an article in which the author identifies memorable ways to interact with others: Compliment what you would never be expected to compliment

When someone shares the mad-lib style bits from their child, it is done with 

pride & appreciation & joy

To capture how a child sees his or her mother at a moment in time - before the child understands 

the realities of life {i am not sure any mother weighs 30 or 40 pounds} 

or

 the complexities of relationships {if only a mother's life was only spending time with her child(ren)} 

- is precious and compliments the unexpected. 

It is memorable.

As mothers {as humans} it is sometimes hard to see ourselves reflected in those around us 

{especially when we look around} 

so it is wonderful to have someone verbalize a reflection that unfiltered, unexpected, validating, and resonant.

So with that, to my mother:

I know you are old enough to have retired but you still come across as younger than your stated age.

I think you cook the best pizzas - always homemade, with wild and crazy toppings

I love to observe you laugh when you are feeling a little playful and/or mischievous

If you had more time, you would love to paint on a beach and play music and be in the presence of family.

You always say "what else would you have me do?" You are loyal to the core. I admire that.

I appreciate how you experience the world around you with all your senses: hands in the dirt, walking Mi-o-My or the beach, building fires, listening to music, painting images of what you see, tasting foods of all kinds 

{case in point:  you ate a bite of the worm Jo and I cooked in the microwave "for you,"}

or completing a puzzle with a glass of wine amidst burning candles.

Mommisita, 

I love you because you are my mother - without fail - and you have remained present/engaged as my identity evolves.

all the kiddos

*i know this is technically not an "ode", due to it's inaccurate format, but free-form-blog-post-to-my-mother didn't really sound cool.