Momma,
I think that it's pretty well documented around here how great you are to me and my family.  All day yesterday I thought about what I could write that I haven't already said.  I mean, SURE you're awesome, but I've said it like a hundred times.  Plus, it's the day AFTER Mother's Day, so instead of talking about your greatness (AGAIN), let's talk about the areas that would have been graded "Needs Improvement".

1.  Baking.  For the first 34 years of my life, I didn't bake one single thing that turned out.  Then I discovered foolproof cupcakes, so I guess we're alright there.  And let's be honest, if it weren't for the dairy allergy, I'd forgo baking and order cakes just like you taught me to do.

2. Sewing.  I don't know anything about sewing and can only make repairs to things if no one will see them.  When I made the Halloween costumes for the kids, I used mostly glue and would have used staples, but I was afraid the kids would get all scratched up.  Yesterday one of Sophie's stuffed animals split at the seams and she asked if I could fix it.  I started laughing because, yeah, I could fix it...but barely.  As I pulled out my needle and thread (the only needle and the only single spool of thread I own), I swung giant looping stitches of grey thread through the black dog's fur.  Martin came upstairs and looked at me with awe, saying that he didn't know that I was so good at sewing.  So, I guess we're fine on that front as well.

3. Fashion and Accessorizing.  I've never been a fashionista, but in my memory I thought I did alright.  But as I went though the archives (aka the bin filled with my childhood treasures), I really had to question some of your choices.  Or your support of my choices, it's hard to tell.

For example, here I am at my First Communion in a dress you had made for me because I loved Little House on the Prairie.  And after admiring the flowered head wreaths at the Renaissance Festival, you had one made for me to wear on my special day.  You loved me, and let me do what I most wanted in the world.  That's good and all, but you can see the result here as I posed for my "pre-Communion" photo with the Bible on my lap, as if I was just getting in a little reading before we left.


Let's take a closer look at that dress in this dramatic photo captured at my cousin Pam's wedding.

This photo could be in a made-for-tv movie titled "A Very Little House Flashback".

When I fished the next photo out of the archives I laughed, wondering who picked out the shirt - you, me or dad.  It could have been any one of us.  Sophie snuck in the room while I was examining it, ripping the photo out of my hands.  "Hey," she said.  "Where's that shirt?" pointing to the photo.  "That's my shirt from when I was a girl, I'm sure it's long gone," I told her.  She laughed like I had lost my mind, because obviously that was HER in the photo.  I said "Well, if that's you, then who is that little boy?" and she was like "who cares" and "where's my shirt".

So maybe this one isn't so bad after all, I mean Sophie is better at accessorizing than I am.  I think she may have an aptitude for Retro.

4. Directions.  I actually think you have a pretty good sense of direction.  I can only think of one time when we got lost on that ranch in Texas while wearing our pajamas and had to hitchhike back to the house.  I know that normally hitchhiking isn't such a good idea with little kids, but it was kind of thrilling.  But other than that, I don't really remember getting lost very often.  Until I unearthed a treasure from the bin that documented a very big error in your directional judgment.  In a collection of very short stories from back in 1981 titled "Sometimes mom's make mistakes":

"Once we were in Telemark Ski Lodge and mom said she knew where the café was but she didn't and we got lost."

BIG issues, right?  I mean, what kind of mother takes you on a ski vacation then can't even find the CAFE.  Gawd.

In conclusion - your parenting shortcomings weren't actually issues at all.  You are a wonderful momma and I'm so lucky.  You are supportive and have always nurtured my creativity and spirit.

I have probably fifty pictures that look just like this.  You and me, doing something together (this one in Paris for my 26th birthday).  When I was small, when I was growing up, and even now, you always have time for me.  As my mother, you made it all look so effortless.  All of it.  The millions of hours you have spent caring for me, our family, and now my family.  It's all done selflessly, without looking for recognition.  But know now that it's here.  I know, at least a little bit, what it took.  It is a gift to have you as my momma.

A gift.