If I had a nickel for every time my mom said; “Oh my – You are just. like. your. father!” Now, mind you, this is usually stated in a rather loud voice, and is not to be mistaken as a compliment. At least not at the time that she is broadcasting this fact.
Research states that we have a tendency towards either left-brained or right-brained thinking. I “think” that I am, however, the exception to the rule. (And I think that I think this from my left-sided thinker. Ha! Kinda “Dr. Seuss-ish”!). I really do believe that I am pretty close to a 50/50 split. 50% left brained, like my dad. Logical, analytical, mathematical, thrifty, conservative and stubborn (Mama no like that last one…!). But… I am ALSO a right-brained thinker, like my mom. We are creative, intuitive, spiritual; possibility thinkers (dreamers) with a hint of mischief. OK. On occasion, slightly more than a hint… (Did I tell you the story about when my mom was a little girl at (Catholic) “summer camp”…? Snuck into the nuns tent when they were sleeping and hung their “double D’s” out on the clothesline for all to enjoy…)
Growing up as the oldest of seven, I was “Mama’s little helper” from day one. My “maternal instincts” developed at a very early age. Some of my brothers have been known to throw the word “bossy” around (what the heck??) when we are reminiscing about days gone by… their
rough life growing up with two older sisters. Ya… whatever. Let me just say, in my own defense, that – to this day – I would do anything in my power to protect my sister or any of my brothers from anyone or anything. Family, ALL FAMILY, is my beginning and my end. Period.
My mom taught me SO much about life, love, happiness… Those lessons and experiences helped shape me into the woman, wife and mom that I am today. Looking back, there were so many things that I did not understand, so many unanswered questions… all crystal clear once I became a mom myself. I have to laugh now, thinking back on the days when she would declare that “for the rest of the day“, we were not allowed to use the word “Mom”. Or “Mommy”. Or anything even remotely close. Pam. We had to call her Pam. Alrighty then. Pam it is. That’s my mama.
As far back as I can remember, my mom always encouraged me to be me. I’m a little (Ha!) “out of the box” at times, but she has always supported and embraced that part of my soul, allowing me to grow into my authentic self. Truth be told, I am still growing into that “authentic self”, and she is still there supporting and encouraging me every step of the way. Yep. That’s my mama. My mom makes me laugh. A lot. Belly laughs that make you cry. My mom is funny, and I love that about her. Sometimes when you’re down and out, you just need someone to tell you to “put your big girl panties on and deal with it“. Well, friends… that’s NOT my mama. Sometimes, however, you need someone to rub your back (even if it’s long distance), tell you that it’s OK to cry and reassure you that everything is going to be OK. Even when it’s not. That’s my mama.
So today I say, thank you mom… for everything that you are; I am; we are. From now until forever, I will always be proud to say…
Yep. That’s my mama…xo
Oh… and P.S. – You still make the best “homemade, from scratch” cinnamon rolls on. the. planet. Enough said.