>So I saw mama this weekend (and daddy, too, but this blog will be about mama). Like a lot of human beings, she’s far from perfect — she’s too short (and actually shrinking… I think she lost about 4 inches of height within the last three years), snores every once in a while, and has a funny blemish on the back of her left knee. But if I had my way with life, I would absolutely love to be just like her. Seeing her during the Thanksgiving break kind of just solidified my life goal to be like her.
My friends and I talk about how funny life is, how we girls somehow eventually start becoming our own mothers. If any of that were true, then I’d be a very lucky person. You see, my mom’s pretty awesome. Like, ridiculously awesome. And being even an ounce like her would be considered a success for me. Writing about how amazing she is would take me a couple lifetimes, so here’s my Cliffs Notes version of it.
She puts up with us. All of us in the Do family. I’ve been told parenting is defined as putting up with shit and not getting paid to do so. I guess that’s what every parent does, so my mom’s not that much different. But because she’s my mama, I kinda am a little partial. None of us Do’s — of the parental or child variety — are very easy to deal with. We all have a little chink (some a heck of a lot bigger than others) that somehow builds into a major attitude problem. And guess who had to deal with it the entire time? Mama. She dealt with all our blow-ups, all our negativity (many directly unjustly right at her), and she’s even been the brunt of a lot of our jokes (ugh… I’m soooo not proud of any of that). And she’s put up with us. What a saint.
She’s sacrificed her happiness for her family. I can point out a billion examples. There’s the minute ones — like, cooking the family chicken for dinner when she’d prefer to eat pork — and then there’s the big ones. I remember one time when I was in high school my mom got a great chance to go with some friends to China. She really wanted to go. I remember how excited she was when her friends mentioned it. But upon thinking, she said no. I can’t remember her exact words that reasoned why she declined, but knowing my mom, she didn’t feel comfortable leaving her family for more than a week, didn’t feel comfortable spending all that money that could have been put toward the family. We don’t talk about it much (actually, I don’t remember having much of a conversation with her about it at all), but I remember seeing a moment of sadness on her face the day she told us she decided not to go.
She’s sooooo nice. Like, really nice. When she likes you, all she sees is a really great person. She can’t stop talking about how great you are. Someone could say something negative, but she finds a way to spin it into a good thing. Like, their neighbor’s little terrier Maggie. They dog-sat Maggie once and apparently she had a few accidents around the house. My mom’s response (and mind you, my mom’s a neat-freak)? “It’s OK… She at least went on the tile and not the rug.”
People have asked me what I’d do if I ever won the lottery. The first thing I always say is, “I’d make sure my parents are taken care of first.” Again, I guess that’s what most people would say. But I really do mean it. That’s my mama, and I’d do anything to take care of her.