Thursday, October 8, 2009

A Sort Of Apologetic Post For My Behavior Today



The other day I ran into a woman in the park who is a c jane reader. She explained,
"I have a lot of children, but I am not as sweet as your mother." And I replied, "My mother is not sweet." I think that might've confused her and I wish I would've explained better.

My mother is not sweet. To me, sweet is a soft voice and cheerful eyes, a guile-less heart and a head that always tilts. My mother is fun. Gregarious and perky, witty and funny. She is thoughtful and passionate and always up for a good time. To illustrate: my seventeen-year-old nephew made her a Muse cd (alternative rock) and she fell so much in love with it she spent a twelve hour car ride listening to it on repeat. She loves Freddy Mercury and Hershey's chocolate.

My mother is kind. And today when I was perhaps at my snarkiest (or my worst, as she would agree) she spent the day ignoring my foul mood and acting as if I was enjoyable. (I was so not enjoyable.) My mother is smart. She long since learned to play off of my mood as if I was her best friend, which usually induces my change for better. In our relationship she is patient.

My mother is endearing. When I mentioned today that I wanted a baked refreshment, my mother drove me to the bakery. I didn't want to go inside so I waited in the car with The Chief while she did the shopping. When she was gone, I thought to myself, She is so good to me. She never gives up on me. She always hopes for the better part of me. And eventually she came out with a box of cookies dripping with orange frosting and insisted they were all for me.

I've written before my thoughts on her secret to motherhood and I don't think it has anything to do with being sweet, but everything to do with enjoyment. I mean, it isn't always a trip to the circus, she is a busy woman with her mind on a million things at once. When she has two seconds to sit on your couch and tell you how to arrange your pillows you feel honored. But we (her children) always feel her happiness to be with us, she enjoys our company and craves our love.

My mother is not sweet, but she always laughs at our jokes.