Mother's Day

            Since it's Mothers Day, I should be writing this about my mom or some such.  But she wouldn't see this. My parents have no computer.  My father claims to be a Luddite but I'm convinced he's mostly afraid to get one in case my mother discovers Amazon. Mom takes his word for it that she doesn't want one, although I suspect she would LOVE one and love Amazon.  In Mom's defense, she is from an area so rural that where she grew up didn't have electricity until she was about 12. (We used to tease her and tell her she was from the Waltons until she pointed out that those people had light bulbs and radios.) It's probably good that she doesn't read this. I never have to worry about her being appalled by my smart mouth or bad attitude. (Thanks, Mom!)  Besides, not having the interwebs frees up a lot of time for her to have a social life with our bazillion relatives, so she is off gallivanting about Ohio at a cousin's wedding; kissing babies, hugging relatives, giving small children large amounts of candy and then handing them back to their parents all sticky and hyper.  Generally enjoying herself.    

           But now it's Mother's day, and I should be writing some ode to moms in general about how we moms are all awesome (We are.) How we moms all work so damn hard (We do.)  How being the parent of a special needs kid is astounding and humbling and we all deserve nobel prizes and/or sainthood  for sheer ultimate mommyness. (We do) (Even there, my mother has me beat- she had four kids- my sister had Down Syndrome, my older brother has spina bifida, my younger brother was a six month preemie back in 1976.  Honestly, the woman is a bit of an over achiever.)  But, she is off for the weekend and won't read this anyway so now I am stuck for an easy topic.

           So I guess, instead of writing some ultimately self congratulating "aren't all moms AWESOME?" piece (Cue that damn lego song, or better yet, don't.) maybe I should flip the coin and write a thank to my kids.  Yes, I created you.  And yes, you two girls had damn well better appreciate that and how hard I work.  But let's face it, this journey that is our crazy family wasn't exactly your idea to begin with.  So maybe once in a while, I ought to be grateful for the two of you.  So to that end... 

            Thank you, Hippie Pants. You are amazing and kind have the most generous heart I have ever seen in a human being.  You would bring home strays when you were two (animal, human, reptile, you didn't care) and you always said the same thing.  "He's so hungry, Mommy, can we feed him?"  You stopped eating meat when you were six ("That's just MEAN.") You have such a generous spirit that you are even a good sport when your sister comes up with a clever burn. Or blames you for her crimes.  Not everyone would laugh if their sister lied all the time and said you did anything that happened that was naughty or told everybody that she knew they were adopted because their sister is such a freak.  Or laugh even harder at said kid sister's utter dismay when she finds out that (horrors!) you really are blood siblings.  Your spirit really is comprised of glitter and rainbows.  Don't let the world muddy it.  If you keep sparkling, it will shine back.

               And thank you, Feisty Pants.  Thank you teaching me that stubbornness really is a virtue.  And that defiance is an art form.  That cheerfulness and love can be the most fun way to give the Universe the finger.  That you can truly look daunting challenges right square in the eye and moon them and still look utterly adorable whilst doing so.  Your incredible joy at life and independence is contagious and gets my cranky, tired ass out of bed every morning.  I sometimes wonder with you whether I am raising Professor X or Professor Moriarty , but either way the ride will NOT be boring.  Thank you for teaching me that joy shines from within not without.

             So, thanks to you. I love you both.  Now, what did you get me???