I am so grateful for my mother. I remember when I had my first child the revelation of how much my mom did for me hit me really hard in the face. How ignorant was I to think life was so awesome with me. Jeepers! I remember the first week of baby one and the changing of 10 diapers in less than five hours. The inability to nurse and the screaming gut wrenching wails from the babe’s mouth rang through my ears like a train whistle blaring through with endless exhaustion. Oh and that exhaustion, come on now, one cannot even complain about exhaustion until they themselves have had the privilege of a new born bursting through the realms of what was once a place of Zen Tazo Tea, in other words a quiet and calm, or a safe house from the mad realms of the outside world. My back hurting having to change once again another poopy diaper, my hands chapped from washing for the zillionth time, and my clothes, ugh, don’t even get me started at the countless barf marks, stains and spit ups, that once disgusted me, could no longer even phase me. My hair, a mess and my eyes shrunken and haggard, and my skin, did I even wash my face anymore? Oh first born, what you put me through. But then something happens. This insanity becomes the new normalcy. Boogers in your nose, boogers in my nose, boogers in every ones nose! Perfection which once was bliss is replaced by a whole new set of word descriptions like parenthood, motherhood, perhaps even misunderstood. However, my mom was a superstar mom in my eyes. My early memories with her were those of riding horses, playing on the beach, and running in the backyard with our wolf-dog. I am extremely grateful for her patience and kindness. She never ridiculed me for not wanting to pin the tail on a donkey at another birthday party I didn’t want to go to, or ring around the rosy. She didn’t push me or force me to smile at the camera, but to remain as natural as I was which was typically in a state of chronic hysteria. Thanks Mom! I love you!