My Mom and her beloved Humphrey |
So why do I call her my Mean Old Mom in the heading? Because when I was growing up, she was mean to me. Really me. She didn't let me run wild like the other cool parents did. I had chores to do. I had responsibilities to handle. I had to (gasp) clean my room. When I wanted a pair of (way-overpriced) trendy new Jordache jeans, she made me earn HALF the money myself so I would appreciate the value of them. When my brother and I were a little older my Dad went into business for himself, and my Mom ran the office. Which meant that sometimes when I came home from school, I had to clean house and get dinner started! Mean, right?
Now that I'm a Mom myself, I can actually appreciate all those mean things she did. Good or bad, they made me the person I am today. These days I'm trying to be a mean Mom myself. Yep, all those chores, and responsibilities I hated so much - I'm passin' 'em all on to MY kids. Because that's what gave me the work ethic and personal morals that I have today. And I expect nothing less of my boys. Maybe one day when they're all grown up and have kids of their own they'll appreciate the fact that I wasn't the "cool Mom". For now, to them I'm just mean. And that's OK. I kinda think that means I'm doing my job.
Everyone she's ever worked with - they all LOVE my Mom. Neighbors, acquaintances - they'll all tell you how great she is. She's just that kind of person. Animal lover. Smart. Kind. Sweet. Funny. Giving. More than a little weird (hey, maybe that's where I get it from!). They all describe my Mom.
Thanks for being mean to me all those years, Mom. I love you more than you'll ever realize! And even though we're not together on your birthday, I hope you have an AWESOME day.
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