I was so terribly inadequate at dressing myself that she had to create a booklet for me to describe what not to wear. She gave all my clothes a number and told me which clothes matched and why. Even as a fourth grader, I could not understand why my multicolored, polka-dot flowered skirt did not match my different multicolored, also floral shirt. Shouldn't all flowers match?
My mom also must have been the original Uber Eats driver. I don't know how many times she had to drop my lunch off at school because I forgot it. Or how many times she had to drive back to school because I left my essay on the printer, or I forgot my Showtime uniform on her bed, or I needed ten bucks to pay for a club activity. Despite all of my mother's expert Uber driving service, I'm sure she never got appreciated enough. She definitely didn't get paid anything to help cover the hundreds of dollars she spent re-buying us all jackets in elementary school every month because heaven knows we couldn't keep track of them for more than a week.
By the time I got old enough to actually be of assistance to my mom and help babysit her four other kids, I proved myself quite... inept at the job. My first time babysitting, someone got a poopy diaper that was so bad I couldn't ignore it, but we didn't have any diapers, and I didn't even know HOW to change a diaper, so I tried to make one out of paper towels, and I asked my brother Caleb to help me out my throwing the dirty paper towels I had already used in the trash. But Caleb thought that flushing them down the toilet was an even better idea, so the toilet overflowed, and we had to run and get my parents from the very important Church meeting they were in the middle of having. Imagine my parents' surprise when Caleb, with urgency and panic, ran through the chapel, pleaded with them for help, and promised that it really was an emergency. I'm sure when they opened the door and saw one child running around naked (pro tip: making diapers out of paper towels is really, really hard), two other kids making a mess of the toys in the corner, and me, on my hands and knees, of course wearing something that didn't match, trying to use paper towels to mop up the toilet water that was quickly soaking into the carpet, they wondered if I could ever be trusted to babysit again.
(Side note: they did trust me to babysit again. Whether that was out of actual trust in my capabilities or sheer desperation, I'm not sure. I will say, however, that after my first fiasco, I did give provide them with some high-quality babysitting service. I would stand over the cribs of the twins and use the techniques I had learned from my Nancy Drew books to ensure that they were still breathing every five minutes. Now THAT's dedication.)
Then there was all the times that I would spring things on my mom at the last minute. Hey, my friends are coming over. Okay, when? Right. NOW. And you will need to feed them lunch. The California mission project is due. Tomorrow. I have to pay club dues for the seven clubs I am in. By Friday. I also signed you up to bring cupcakes to my class party, and of course we don't have any cupcakes in the house, and Costco is already closed, so now you're going to be up late making cupcakes, and will have to try to find a recipe online that doesn't require eggs to make cupcakes because of course, we are all out of eggs.
And then, worst of all, I had to go on and grow up on her. Graduation. College. Mission. MARRIAGE (don't know if she's all the way ready for that one yet, haha!). And suddenly, she couldn't come and bring me lunch when I was hungry and tired and sick. She couldn't drag me to the doctors by my ears for my own good. She couldn't hug me when I cried, or mop up all my dirty messes, or threaten to beat up anyone who messes with me, or break out her secret stash of chocolate to make all my problems go away. She could be there for me in many ways, but she couldn't BE there, at least not physically.
And yet, despite the distance, she has helped me in more ways than I know. She has raised me to be interdependent, to trust in God and His plan. To reach out for help when I need. To give my best, and let my best be good enough, even if it sometimes includes a dirty room or a messy life or a C- on a midterm. From birth onward, she has taught me and loved me and saved me in ways that only a mother can. As a baby, she put up a picture of Jesus in the hallway and repeated His name so many times that "Jesus" was literally my first word. In a similar manner, she has spent her whole life raising me to have Christ's name not just on my lips, but in my heart.
Now, on the brink of marriage, motherhood is slowly ceasing to seem like an elusive concept that I might someday maybe experience. It is quickly becoming part of the identity that makes up who I am now. It is about women's unbreakable strength and unforeseen potential. It is about service and sacrifice laughter and love. And most of all, it is about guiding all of God's children to hope, happiness, and peace.
Happy Mother's Day to all women everywhere, but especially to my mom, who is about as good as they come. Love you!
