Sunday, May 8, 2011

Moms are pretty cool


We've probably all heard the old Jewish proverb that, "God couldn't be everywhere, so he created mothers".

This is meant to evoke a sense of God's love for us, but the flip side of course is that it also has to do with the belief that God is watching everything we do.

Mothers are so much like God, they even got their own semi-omniscient quote, "Mothers have eyes in the back of their heads".

Just as true as the fact that they will likely always find out what you've been up to, it is also true that their prayers are always following you and just as needed are our prayers for them.

My mom spent the last two days in the hospital from a bad fall she took, but thankfully she is now back home and doing better.

Fortunately, she ended up not staying there today... Mother's day... as the doctors originally were convinced she would have to. Many friends and family sent their good thoughts and prayers, which were greatly appreciated.

You do not need to convince me of the importance of a mother's love and discipline. If I were the only influence in my own kids' lives, I am half convinced both my kids would now be Hell's Angels or something more dangerous, like politicians or on the cast of Jersey Shore.

Yes, their mom (whom I call "wife" or "Amy" for short) is a saint for how both of mine turned out, as well as enduring the manifold affliction that is me, lo these many years.

So, yeah... moms are pretty cool.

One of my earliest memories of my mom is also one of her favorites. I would usually get moving about 4 or 5 in the morning, as this was what I considered, "mom's eyes (including the ones in the back of her head) are closed, so I can get into mischief" time.

She came in a little while after I had been already moving about one morning, to find a red line on the white wall that went from the floor, straight up to the exact height of a 4 year old's highest reach on his tiptoes.

Her eyes got huge, but before she could explode, I blurted out, "Mom! You know how Soda (our cat) doesn't like me! Well, he grabbed a red crayon in his mouth, jumped as high as he could and used his claws to slide down the wall!"

The key to any good lie of course, is believing it yourself. I was so unabashed in my tale, that she spun around and bolted away before I could hear her laughing. She also was probably overcome with pride at my promising future as a government lawyer or worse, a blogger.

That same year, right after I complained about the terrible condition of my eggs one morning, she promptly snatched away the plate and said, "then make them yourself!".

I barely mustered the strength to screech and scrape my chair across the floor, then climbed up and demanded that she explain all the knobs and whistles on "this huge stove thingy".

She apparently wasn't terribly big on squelching individual expression and immediately slapped the spatula into my hand and started the tutorial.

From that day on, this 4 year old always made his own eggs, even though they were probably considerably worse than mom's would have turned out.

But I think we were both still pretty damn proud of the final product.

Love you, mom.

2 comments:

  1. love you too #2 who is convinced he should have been #1 birth child - damn proud

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  2. Since I'm not a mom yet, I don't have eyes in the back of my head, but I was able to convince a second grader that I could see through wood, and knew that he was kicking his neighbor under the table.

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