Forty-four years ago today, two lovely but crazy Italian-Americans brought their daughter into this world. Their daughter grew up to be the wife of an Army man, a bookkeeper, someone who worked at a mortgage company, someone who works at an insurance company, a cancer survivor, a professional crazy person wrangler, and, most importantly, my mama.
Although I am sure she would be none too pleased about the fact that I just broadcasted her age across the internet, she has always been “the young mom” in my group of friends. Let’s also take into consideration that besides yours truly, she has two other children, aged twenty-two and nineteen. I’d say forty-four is pretty darn good.
Anyway, my mama is freaking awesome and the best mama ever. She made me the coolest Halloween costume ever — a princess costume made out of purple satin — and taught me how to cook. (However, unless it is a holiday, you probably won’t find her in the kitchen; that’s Daddy’s job now.) She is far more patient than I am; she puts up with many a crazy person because nearly everyone in her life can be described as nutso. My mama has a fabulous sense of humor, is a great gardener, and, like me, loves babies and puppies and cries too much when people die on Lost.
My mama loves me no matter how weird and neurotic I am and lets me cry about my ex-boyfriend over the phone. She also tells me I have not gained weight and fusses at me when I bake something. (But she’ll always try at least one cookie or brownie or lemon bar.) Mama is very proud of me, whether I am making great grades, being given an award, or making sandwiches all summer to buy a car.
My mama appreciates a good bargain and is always happy to listen to my newest find. She is a great shopping partner, and, if I am really lucky, she buys me clothes or shoes I definitely don’t need ;). I know she is always genuinely happy to hear from me, whether I send her an e-mail, call her just to say hello, or make the six hour drive back to Indianapolis. And, no matter what, she and my daddy are the most supportive people in the world; they even drove six hours to Jackson to see my sorority kick butt at All Sing … how’s that for great parenting?
I have learned a great deal of things from her, from how to make spaghetti or how to find a pair of shoes for less than fifteen dollars. Most importantly, I know that when I have kids in the distant (but not too distant) future, I’m going to have a great role model on how to be a great mama — because I have a great mama.
Happy birthday, Mama! Go make yourself a pom-pear mojito.
PS: Title quote courtesy of Buster (Tony Hale) of Arrested Development.
