WHEN: May 8, 1984 (my first Mother's Day with my mom) WHERE: My belly button
27 Mother's Days ago - May 1983
My mom and I met at 12:19p.m. on Wednesday, June 8, 1983. She has taught me a lot since then and loved me every day. She taught me how to walk, how to talk, and she learned how to deal with the ramifications :) I will only ever truly understand the dynamics of a mother-son relationship from the son's point of view but I know it is a challenge, especially for your first son. Raising children is the hardest job there is and figuring out how to raise a boy and understanding why they are the way they are must be particularly hard for a mother. My mom already had 4 years of practice at being a parent before I came along but zero experience with raising a son. Even still, she raised me with every ounce of love a mother could and learned to embrace all the dirt, destruction, and decibels that came with a son. This is just some of our story over the past 27 years.
Boy - [boi] n. A noise with dirt on it.
June 9, 1983
Mom's one and only son. This was going to be an adventure!
Spring 1984
My sister, my mom, my grandma, and my great-grandma.
1984?
My sister, my mom, my grandma, and my great-grandma.
1984?
My mom taught me how to walk; perhaps her first mistake. Give a son an inch and he'll break everything in your house.
1986?
My mom found me like this (covered in permanent marker) one Sunday morning as she was distracted while getting ready for church. My dad told her to take a picture because some day we would look back and laugh. I'm sure at the time she wished she had had a second daughter instead :)
1987?
If it has wheels or makes noise, boys will always find time for it.
Easter 1987
Getting cleaned up, dressed up, and picking up is the last thing a son wants to do and that makes it something mom's loathe as well. It's no walk in the park for mom's either.
1988
My mom cut my hair for the first several years of my life. One time (at about this age) she cut my ear with the scissors on accident. She still mentions it today and feels awful about it. When your son or daughter is hurt, a mother's heart is the most sympathetic and when it's your fault it's even more heart-wrenching.
Summer 1988 (Oh, yea! Photos with rounded corners!)
I returned the "cutting" favor in the funnest way I knew how. I was all about yard work at an early age and am to this day. I spent 20 years taking care of my parent's yard and enjoyed every opportunity and volunteered whenever possible. Whether it was meticulously spraying off the entire driveway with the hose, planting trees, cutting down trees, planting grass, digging up grass, building ponds, building bigger ponds, watering my mom's garden, raking leaves, cleaning out the gutters, or pulling weeds, I took charge of every landscape project possible. And my love for nature/the outdoors stems directly from my mom. Even today, at least some topic of the weather, yard, or landscaping comes up in every conversation. I love that I'm like my mom in this way.
1990
My mom homeschooled me through 2nd grade but has been teaching me my whole life.
1990
My mom (and dad) taught me how to work hard at an early age which has made adulthood and "reality" much less of a shock. I shared a paper route with my sister before the age of 12 ($4 a month - just enough for a LEGO set), held 4 jobs at the same time through college, and completed a Master's degree. Finishing 7 years of college is much less to do about brains and everything to do with hard work and perseverance. The work ethic my mom and dad instilled upon me at an early age has prepared me well for growing up and one day, for raising children of my own.
Fall 1991
I started climbing the tree in my parent's front yard when I was 5. This would begin what I imagine was my mom's biggest nightmare in raising her son - probably even more than when I got my license. Every year would lead me higher and higher in to the tree and eventually to the top (the tree is over 60ft tall). And as if that wasn't enough, all matter of lawn furniture, sticks, and garbage were carried up in to the tree (by all means imaginable), only to be thrown down from the top of the tree. Purely destructive entertainment. Nothing out of the ordinary...when you have a son! And when that would get boring (though it never did), hanging from branches with nothing between my feet and the ground but 30 feet of air was an entertaining alternative. That tree will always be a part of my life and will always remind me of my childhood. I just thank my mother for allowing it to be by not saying "NO!" to her son like I'm sure she wanted to each and every day.
1998?
1999?
God did not choose me to be Zacchaeus because I probably wouldn't have come down.
The view from 60ft up, with the hospital I was born at in the background. Not even winter, snow, and wind chills could keep me out of my tree.
May 25, 2003
One of only a few pictures of just me and my mom as an adult. Mom, we need to work on this!
If there were any stories my mom could tell you about my growing up that occurred more frequently it would most likely be about dirt. Not just getting dirty but actually making dirt. Digging holes was a ritual for me, even in to adulthood. No place in my parent's yard was safe. I could have filled dump trucks with the amount of dirt I dug up. I remember digging holes (usually in my mom's garden during dormant season) deeper than me as a kid, to collect rocks for science projects, bury broken toys (or anything nearby), and find earthworms. I even dug a grave-size hole in 2004 for a soil project in college my Junior year. The project was superfluous to the joy of simply digging a hole. By no measure did the project require the size of hole I dug. I'm thankful I was taught to be content with a shovel as a kid rather than remote controls and gaming consoles. I'd take dirt over video games any day!
June 27, 2003
That's me inside a 6ft hole I dug, "just for fun" (at age 20...and I'd do it again today if I had a yard).
September 7, 2004
"It's for a project, mom!" This hole eventually became 3ft deep and as of last month (when my parent's moved out of their house) there was still a huge indentation where the hole used to be. My mom loved me even when I dug canyons in her garden and had a mop for a hair-do.
Spring 2007
This was my favorite "hole" I ever dug. It was actually a 4-year project that I would dig up and completely redo about every year. My mom figured all my practice as a kid had paid off.
April 16, 2009
My mom rocks! She has loved me through thick and thin, on the ground or in a tree, dirty or clean, bruised or healthy, pimples or not, at home or afar, unconditionally. She has been a role model of Christ's love, of a Godly wife, and a loving mother. I will never fully understand the sacrifices she made for me and my sister but I will always be proud of her and thankful that God gave her to me (or vice versa). Their are thousands of children who have never had a mother in their life and yet others who have nothing to admire or aspire to in their mothers. God has blessed me with a wonderful, loving role model in my mom and I owe her so much. I could never repay her but I can offer her my respect, honor, and love in return.
If nothing else, I will always have my belly button to remember my mother by. It's a symbol of a bond that everyone has but only with one person - their mother.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY MOM!!!
My mom found me like this (covered in permanent marker) one Sunday morning as she was distracted while getting ready for church. My dad told her to take a picture because some day we would look back and laugh. I'm sure at the time she wished she had had a second daughter instead :)
1987?
If it has wheels or makes noise, boys will always find time for it.
Easter 1987
Getting cleaned up, dressed up, and picking up is the last thing a son wants to do and that makes it something mom's loathe as well. It's no walk in the park for mom's either.
1988
My mom cut my hair for the first several years of my life. One time (at about this age) she cut my ear with the scissors on accident. She still mentions it today and feels awful about it. When your son or daughter is hurt, a mother's heart is the most sympathetic and when it's your fault it's even more heart-wrenching.
Summer 1988 (Oh, yea! Photos with rounded corners!)
I returned the "cutting" favor in the funnest way I knew how. I was all about yard work at an early age and am to this day. I spent 20 years taking care of my parent's yard and enjoyed every opportunity and volunteered whenever possible. Whether it was meticulously spraying off the entire driveway with the hose, planting trees, cutting down trees, planting grass, digging up grass, building ponds, building bigger ponds, watering my mom's garden, raking leaves, cleaning out the gutters, or pulling weeds, I took charge of every landscape project possible. And my love for nature/the outdoors stems directly from my mom. Even today, at least some topic of the weather, yard, or landscaping comes up in every conversation. I love that I'm like my mom in this way.
1990
My mom homeschooled me through 2nd grade but has been teaching me my whole life.
1990
My mom (and dad) taught me how to work hard at an early age which has made adulthood and "reality" much less of a shock. I shared a paper route with my sister before the age of 12 ($4 a month - just enough for a LEGO set), held 4 jobs at the same time through college, and completed a Master's degree. Finishing 7 years of college is much less to do about brains and everything to do with hard work and perseverance. The work ethic my mom and dad instilled upon me at an early age has prepared me well for growing up and one day, for raising children of my own.
Fall 1991
I started climbing the tree in my parent's front yard when I was 5. This would begin what I imagine was my mom's biggest nightmare in raising her son - probably even more than when I got my license. Every year would lead me higher and higher in to the tree and eventually to the top (the tree is over 60ft tall). And as if that wasn't enough, all matter of lawn furniture, sticks, and garbage were carried up in to the tree (by all means imaginable), only to be thrown down from the top of the tree. Purely destructive entertainment. Nothing out of the ordinary...when you have a son! And when that would get boring (though it never did), hanging from branches with nothing between my feet and the ground but 30 feet of air was an entertaining alternative. That tree will always be a part of my life and will always remind me of my childhood. I just thank my mother for allowing it to be by not saying "NO!" to her son like I'm sure she wanted to each and every day.
1998?
1999?
God did not choose me to be Zacchaeus because I probably wouldn't have come down.
The view from 60ft up, with the hospital I was born at in the background. Not even winter, snow, and wind chills could keep me out of my tree.
May 25, 2003
One of only a few pictures of just me and my mom as an adult. Mom, we need to work on this!
If there were any stories my mom could tell you about my growing up that occurred more frequently it would most likely be about dirt. Not just getting dirty but actually making dirt. Digging holes was a ritual for me, even in to adulthood. No place in my parent's yard was safe. I could have filled dump trucks with the amount of dirt I dug up. I remember digging holes (usually in my mom's garden during dormant season) deeper than me as a kid, to collect rocks for science projects, bury broken toys (or anything nearby), and find earthworms. I even dug a grave-size hole in 2004 for a soil project in college my Junior year. The project was superfluous to the joy of simply digging a hole. By no measure did the project require the size of hole I dug. I'm thankful I was taught to be content with a shovel as a kid rather than remote controls and gaming consoles. I'd take dirt over video games any day!
June 27, 2003
That's me inside a 6ft hole I dug, "just for fun" (at age 20...and I'd do it again today if I had a yard).
September 7, 2004
"It's for a project, mom!" This hole eventually became 3ft deep and as of last month (when my parent's moved out of their house) there was still a huge indentation where the hole used to be. My mom loved me even when I dug canyons in her garden and had a mop for a hair-do.
Spring 2007
This was my favorite "hole" I ever dug. It was actually a 4-year project that I would dig up and completely redo about every year. My mom figured all my practice as a kid had paid off.
April 16, 2009
My mom rocks! She has loved me through thick and thin, on the ground or in a tree, dirty or clean, bruised or healthy, pimples or not, at home or afar, unconditionally. She has been a role model of Christ's love, of a Godly wife, and a loving mother. I will never fully understand the sacrifices she made for me and my sister but I will always be proud of her and thankful that God gave her to me (or vice versa). Their are thousands of children who have never had a mother in their life and yet others who have nothing to admire or aspire to in their mothers. God has blessed me with a wonderful, loving role model in my mom and I owe her so much. I could never repay her but I can offer her my respect, honor, and love in return.
If nothing else, I will always have my belly button to remember my mother by. It's a symbol of a bond that everyone has but only with one person - their mother.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY MOM!!!
1 comments:
And i'm still your biggest fan (sorry Stacie:) Budzo!!! Pretty special you little varmint tho it seems a bit exaggerated as you give me way too much credit.
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