Happy Birthday Mom!!! Remember when you took me to Sear’s in 1978 for that awesome photo session???

Yesterday my mom turned . . . never mind that would be rude. I’ll just say that yesterday was my mom’s birthday and she as active as most people 15 years younger. She’s the oldest of 5 kids and perhaps the one in the best health. She works out regularly. She keeps vigilant records of each and every health screening/doctor appointment to make sure she’s never aging. She closely watches what she eats, always leaving just enough calories for a glass of wine everyday at 4pm. She’s amazing.

When I was a little girl (and then was I was not so little, but had no money) my mom always said to me, “I don’t want any gifts for my birthday. I just want you to make me a card.” I think she was still saying this to me when I was 28. I felt a little old to be making cards, at least with crayons, which were really the only ones I knew how to make. It occurred to me the other day that I could still make my mom a “card”. But not with crayons. It occurred to me that I could make her a “card” on my blog to share with everyone. This will surely embarrass her. But, ultimately, I think she’ll love it.

Here’s the front of my card

The funny thing is, my mom did wear a cape. For 17 years before she had me, literally. She was a nun. She entered the convent (she is rolling her eyes right now as I start to say tell you this) when she was 17 years old, just out of high school. She stayed there until when was 34 years old and a Mother Superior. You may remember me recently saying that I love The Sound of Music. Perhaps because it helps me see into my mom’s early life just a little. Sadly, my mom didn’t get to work for a family like Von Trapps. That would have been really cool. Perhaps, more importantly, though, she got her college degree while in the convent and then became a third grade teacher.

She left the convent (she is dying for me to be done talking about this, btw) when she was 34. At 35 she married my dad, a truck driver. Obvious choice for an ex-nun, right? At 37 she had me. At 40 she had my sister. At 41 she and my dad got divorced. No, ex nuns and truck drivers do not live happily ever after.

Here is where my mom put on another cape. The cape of a single mother. She was now a fourth grade teacher raising two girls on her own. She scrimped and saved and put us through 16 years of Catholic schools. What she did was nothing short of remarkable. She would never tell you that. She just did what she had to do.

That’s what moms do, right? You unknowingly put on a cape and get the job done. YOU are a hero. No matter what, YOU do what you need to do to make the best possible life for your kids. It really doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing. It doesn’t matter if everyone else has a bigger house or drives nicer cars. It doesn’t matter if everyone else has a husband or more extended family to share the burden (and, to be fair, tremendous joy) of raising your kids. All that matters is that YOU wake up everyday and give 110% so that some day your kids will be people who make the world a little better.

That’s exactly what my mom did. She got up everyday and drove us 30 minutes to our Catholic grade school. She cut coupons (and stole the neighbors – seriously – stole their newspapers out of their driveway to get toilet paper coupons). She balanced and re-balanced bank accounts to make sure that we had food on the table, clothes on our backs and enough money to get the best education possible.

This is all hero worthy in and of itself. But it would not be fair if I didn’t mention the biggest reason my mom earned her cape: a little girl with red hair, a million freckles and boatloads of sass. Yes, me. What is so funny is that my mom doesn’t really remember a lot of this. I guess it’s true, love is blind. I was a rotten child. I remember it. I bullied my sister relentlessly, physically and verbally, to the point my relatives would pull me aside to give me a “Talking To”. My mom used to say, “If you don’t stop it right now, I’m going to put you in the mail and send you to Grandma.”

My mom wasn’t much of a spanker. However, she does recall that she NEVER had to spank my sister. But, she does remember spanking me (hey, it was the 80’s, spanking was normal then, not cause for a CPS report). I think it only happened once. And I KNOW it was well deserved.

There’s something about being the oldest and having red hair (two things completely out of my control, I might add) that made me exceptionally ornery. I mean, to this day, I am always right and I can do everything better than anyone else.

My mom took me to a child psychologist in the 5th grade and he said to my mom, “You do realize Sara thinks she runs the household?” Ummmm, YEAH I DID. I totally ran that household.

My poor mother. She so earned her cape. I think she was an exceptional mother – look at how hard I made her work. And regardless of YOUR circumstances, I don’t doubt that you work any less hard. I think ALL moms earn their cape one way or another. And years after a mom has earned her cape, those not-so-litte kids look back and think, “Wow, my mom is a hero.”

That may quite possibly be your biggest ambition in life – to be a hero to your child. And I’m sure you are. If you are still earning your cape, be patient. It takes time. But eventually, your little ones will be big and they will look back and notice every little thing you did:

Carpools
Vacations
Toys
Clothes
Family Dinners (of Meatloaf, where I insisted I was now a vegetarian)
Church (the weekly argument – “I’m not going, you can’t make me!”)
Help with homework
Science projects
Last minute trips to the store, the mall, a friend’s house, a job
Birthday Parties
Slumber Parties (God bless any parent who puts up with hoards of preteens taking over their house)
Editing papers (and arguing over proper English – I’m sure she’s editing this whole post as she reads)
Helping with college essays
Filling out the FAFSA every year for college (this alone earns a medal of honor)
Listening to really bad music (mine, not hers – her Neil Diamond rocks!)
Listening and gently guiding, realizing there is no forcing, only molding and hoping

For all this and more my mom is my hero, just as you are your child’s hero. That’s not to say I do everything as my mom would do it (although sometimes I do and my sister makes fun of me, “You are so turning into Mom.”) But there are plenty of things I do very differently and for that my mom and I have an incredible mutual admiration for one another. I could never have entered the convent – good Lord – I thought an hour of church each week was cruel and unusual punishment. I could never be a teacher for 42 years (Yes, 42 years. That’s a whole other cape earned.) I could never be as meticulously organized as she is. (She keeps a list of topics to discuss with me by her phone in order of numerical priority.) I can’t garden to save my life, while she has a yard full of flowers, bushes, veggies. Most worth noting, is that I cannot and will not ever make meatloaf. But everyone else thinks hers is the best in the world. I don’t believe in meatloaf. It’s against my religion. And, no, I’m not a vegetarian. It’s just not right.

Contrary to my mom, at 18, I left home and went to college. I was on my second career by my late twenties. I own two businesses (still not sure how that all happened…) I keep very messy lists that I always lose and they are never numbered. I can barely keep a cactus alive. I can’t stand meatloaf. So, yes, we are quite different.

I’m still sassy and impatient and I still KNOW that I run the family (I do!), but I’m now able to step back and see my mom for who she is – the hero of our little family. We are who we are because of her. We would not be this strong and independent without her.

This is who you will be to your kids one day, if you’re not already. You are a hero. They are who they are because of you – for better or worse. Yes, some days for worse…. It takes a lot to be a hero.

I hope to be a hero like my mom someday – gentle and patient and full of advice (even though it’s under appreciated at times). Like her, I hope to be graceful and strong and know what I stand for. Most of all, I hope to be an advocate for my children. I hope to wear my cape with pride and always put their best interest before my own. Lastly, of course, I hope to have a glass of wine everyday at 4pm.

Happy Birthday Mom! I hope you like this card – don’t worry I also scheduled a massage for you next Friday at 3, just in case you decided you didn’t “just want a card” this year. Love you!

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