
When I was walking through Tarrytown with my dad last month, we were discussing the woman he calls his wife and I call my mom. I said to him, "you know how people casually say moms know everything? I'm tempted to believe our mom really does know everything."

...and now}
Any obscure stain, she'd tell you how to properly remove. When in need of directions, she'll not only tell you how to get there, but she'll also suggest which lane you be in at what time. She's got quite a repertoire of recipes stocked in her brain. And she even Instagrams, y'all.

Though she may not be all-knowing, she's pretty extraordinary and I love her for a lot of reasons.

I love her undying loyalty for Viva paper towels. I love all the memories I have of her dragging me to the places I dreaded most--antique stores, Banana Republic, and the worst of all, Lowe's or Home Depot--but somehow the company got me to go back every time.

I love how she excitedly bandwagons behind my dad and brother's sports interests.

I love how humorous it is to watch her avoid the tedious task of pressing more than one button on the microwave by simply pressing the 1 for a 1 minute heat on her coffee, fully intending on stoping it halfway through, but never, ever remembering too.

I love that she genuinely loved helping me with my math homework. And that she actually knew how to solve the problems. And in her spare time (with seven kids, you don't have a lot of that), she ran for US Congress.

I love what a firm believer she is in a piece of dark chocolate being good for your heart and your overall happiness. She also trained my taste buds to never like my tea sweetened.

I love how she was maybe the only mom who encouraged me to stay home from school, drop AP classes if it was going to stress me out, and hyped up making Bs if it meant I'd get more sleep.

She can calculate a discount plus tax in her head faster than the cash register can; she responds to emails faster than I do; and, she is a frequent emoji user.

I love how she got me in the habit of saying morning prayers on our drives to school every morning, a tradition I carry on to my walks to class now.

I love how unashamed she is to purchase and use light-up lipgloss.

She rarely sits still, which we all poke fun at her for, but at the same time, we realize there's no way she could have raised seven children if she operated any differently.

She's helped me nurture my love for travel--taking me on my first plane ride to Disney World, on my first trip to NYC, and ensuring I had a plane ticket to Europe when she and my dad visited Carolyn in Austria.

She's always been stylish; the fact that I still peruse through her closet when I'm home is a testament to that.

And she perfected the art of being a grandmother in no time, as seven little ones get to call her their "Meems."

And so I'll close with that. Mom, you made it look easy! As Erin stated so eloquently in her Facebook post yesterday:
She raised seven kids, meeting the challenges of motherhood every day with grace and purpose. And she never lost an ounce of her style. Lucky to be one of seven, proud to call her mom.


PS Ames - great daughters think alike ;)
2 comments:
What a beautiful array of memories, Moll. Thanks for being such a blog-wonderful daughter!
I LOVED it. Please don't tell her you think she knows everything! Oh, Molly. haha. The lightup lipgloss photo has me rollin'. I love that Meems.
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