Happy Birthday Mom! 

I hope you don't mind, but I wanted the entire Internetweblogsophere to know how completely and utterly awesome you are so today's post is all about you. And me a little. Because without you - there would be no me. And I don't mean the DNA thing. Or the fact that I camped out in your uterus for 9 months. Or the fact that you gave birth to me (in under an hour I might add). All that is true of course.  But without you, I would pretty much be a hot mess. Instead, I am slowly making my way towards becoming an independent, strong, secure, self-assured woman. Much like you.

Mom - you have always been there for me. Sometimes when I haven't wanted you to - like that time when I hit puberty and you made us read that Our Bodies, Our Selves book together every day. And you told me I needed to start wearing deodorant and a bra and you told me what a tampon was and OMG MAKE IT STOP. 

Or that time in college I brought my friend The Appalachian Princess home to NYC for fall break and you showed us how to put a condom on a banana while we ate Chinese food and you made me promise, promise, promise to always have safe sex. Which - teaching me about safe sex was awesome. The whole "condom on the banana thing with my new college friend from West Virginia" was less awesome. But I do cherish the memories.

No. It's more about the days that I don't want to get out of bed because I feel like shit (see: today), and I call you, and you make me get out of bed. Seriously. Even though you are hundreds of miles away and can't physically force me to get up, you know me well enough to know that my moping in self pity in my bed is a recipe for disaster, and you say the necessary words to dislodge the tendrils of depression that are trying to plant themselves in my psyche. Plus - I always want to make you proud.

The times I want to jump off the ledge (and believe me - there have been a lot of those recently)? I call you because you're the only one who knows how to talk me down.

You let me be me. You give me space. You let me sob hysterically into the phone even though I am sure it is annoying. You give me encouragement. You cheer me on. You tell me you're proud of me even when I don't feel proud of myself.  You don't tolerate my bullshit for one single second and you make me take responsibility for my actions.

When I look at you I see beauty. I see intellect. I see confidence.  I see strength.  I also see scars and I know that you didn't get to where you are in life today without a few battles. But you did get there. And it gives me hope that after I wade through the shitstorms that life throws in my path, that I'll get there too.

I feel honored and proud and lucky that you are my mom. That you are my friend. That you are my confidante.  There is no one I trust more in this world and there is no one I would rather turn to when I don't have the strength to face it on my own. 

With you in my life, I never feel like I'm alone.

I hope that one day I am fortunate to be a mother myself. And when that time comes, I hope to be half as good a mother to my little ones, as you are to me. Also? For the record: I am totally letting my daughter dye her hair when she is twelve if only to win our longstanding bet.

At 34 and more than a half, I am not ashamed to say: I still need my mom. And after all of these years, you're still doing a rock star job.

Happy Birthday Mom! I love you.

xoxo Rougie