Thanks, Mom

Thank you, Mom, for meeting Dad. I know it didn't end up the fairytale you thought it would be when you were 15, but still....you ended up with some cool kids in the bargain.

Thank you, Mom, for letting me bake that cake for that church party when I was 14. You had the greatest of faith in me. And thank you for being one of the brave souls to eat one of the two pieces eaten from that horrible cake. I know Dad ate the other. Although I have serious doubts to this day that they were actually eaten - I'm thinking you tossed them out the car window on the way to the church and then left the cake in the car. If you did that, thank you for going into that church empty-handed.

Thank you, Mom, for singing "Down in the Meadow" in harmony with us about 40 gazillion times in the car.

Thank you, Mom, for letting me wear dresses with bells in the ruffles when I was little. I have so many memories of shaking my groove thang just so I could hear my dress make noise.

Thank you, Mom, for all the book fair, bake sale, yearbook, Tom Watt, candy bar and sucker money that you stuck in envelope after envelope and sent to grade school with me, year after year. Thank you for the Big Bird cookies with icing feathers, the southern belle cakes and for burning the meatloaf because that's the way we like it.

Thank you, Mom, for being my cheerleader.

Thank you, Mom, for stuffing that brussel sprout into my face. That incident will forever go down in family history.

Thank you, Mom, for orchestrating the trip to Biloxi. Maybe you knew somewhere deep down inside that we had to go that summer and I'm so glad we went when we did.

Thank you, Mom, for gymnastics, a piano and piano lessons, a flute, and clogging lessons. I'm not going to set the world on fire with my amazing talents, but I learned a thing or two along the way.

Thank you, Mom, for letting Sis and I sing in church any time we wanted to. (And for making us sometimes when we didn't want to.)

Thank you, Mom, for taking Sis and I to church when Dad didn't go with you. That's not easy, I know. You hung in there. Thank you for teaching VBS, Sunday School and singing specials. You truly are a virtuous woman.

Thank you, Mom, for being one of the bravest women to walk the face of the earth. It could not have been easy to find yourself suddenly single with two teenage daughters, no college degree and a secretarial job. Even though we saw you cry more than a few times, I don't think you let on how truly scared you were.

Thank you, Mom, for rocking me to sleep and singing while you did it. When I am old I will still hear your voice singing to me.

Thank you, Mom, for not getting angry when you found out Sis and I stole cigarettes from you and hid them in the glove box of my car. Thank you for laughing when we 'fessed up that we forgot about them and by the time we remembered them they were so stale and horrible that we nearly wrecked my car in a fit of coughing, smoke and laughter.

Thank you, Mom, for being very angry when I walked in the back door and slurringly declared, "Mom. I'm drunk." Thank you for yelling an awful lot and calling Dad (which I know was incredibly hard to do) and then grounding my irresponsible ass.

Thank you, Mom, for letting me go to the Garth Brooks concert the day after I announced my drunkeness to you on the back stoop even though I was "grounded forever." You were right, it was a once in a lifetime deal and I am so glad I got to see him. Thank you for telling me that you hoped my head "hurt a whole lot" while I was there. Looking back now, that was a hilarious statement and one I can hear myself saying to my children.

Thank you, Mom, for lifting the lifetime ground and letting me drive myself to my Senior Prom. If it's any consolation, I didn't have all that good of a time. It was watching "Stella" with you when I got home that was the best part of the night.

Thank you, Mom, for all of the slumber parties that involved oodles and oodles of screaming, squealing, giggling, caffeine-fueled girls. It started at age 11 and didn't end till I was 18. You deserve a medal for that. And some kind of reimbursement for the hundreds of 2-liters of soda we drank at those parties.

Thank you, Mom, for sewing all those little dresses and outfits for Sis and I over the years. I know you did it out of love, but wow. Just wow.

Thank you, Mom, for not dissolving into tears when I asked you go not go into Wal*Mart with me and a group of my friends that one time when I was in the 6th grade. You were hurt and I know that. But you were so cool about it. It was a first - I had never not wanted you with me before. I know that someday soon my son and daughters will in turn ask the same thing of me. Thank you in advance for listening to me when I call you after that happens.

Thank you, Mom, for being so wise. When I was pregnant with Sam I was so worried that I would never be able to love another child as much as I loved Abby already. I went to you to ask how in the world I was going to be capable of loving this next child when my heart was already so full. Your words to me were, "Your heart will grow and you'll be capable of more love than you ever thought possible." You were so right.

Thank you, Mom, for being my hero. (You're still the wind beneath my wings. Heehee.)

Thank you, Mom, for being fair. Sis and I get tickled sometimes when you explain how, even though we didn't get the same exact thing, you spent the same amount of money or didn't do for one what you didn't do for the other in another way. You don't have to be that fair, but it's just another thing that shows what a wonderful person you are.

Thank you, Mom, for taking care of Nana. She's not your mother-in-law anymore, but you haven't abandoned her. You don't have to, but you do.

Thank you, Mom, for sharing stories with us about Memaw and Papa and growing up on the farm. Those stories keep the past alive for us and our kids. The one about the tornado is our favorite, hands down.

Thank you, Mom, for loving your grandchildren with all of your heart.

Thank you, Mom, for loving Sis and I with all of your heart.

Thank you, Mom, for being the perfect model of Motherhood. I learned from the best.

Thank you, Mom, for the Chi iron.