Motherly aspirations and admirations

I have the best mother in the world. I really do. She is more than my mother, she is my friend. I can honestly say that there isn’t a thing about me that I haven’t shared with my mom. She knows everything. Sometimes its not so wonderful, but most of the time it is.
I’m lucky in the way that my friends never have to censor anything from her about me, as they know that she knows already. I can have discussions about anything with her, and that is something I know many people envy about us. Growing up, my friends were always telling me they wished their mothers were more like mine. I didn’t believe them back then, but in hind sight I can see why.
I’ve told you about how my mom has opened up her home to my cousin and her kids, and has taken the role of responsibility to keep her away from drugs and badness. They now have a home full of noise, laughter and love, and my mother. That is more than most people can say.
You see, as caring and fair and serious as my mom can be, she is also a nutcase. Which isn’t really surprising when you look at what her daughter is like. I had to get it from somewhere, right?
Today, as I lay on my moms bed in her air conditioned room, I watched her change into a swimming costume, and nearly died laughing at her when she came out all ready to go to the pool. With lack of breath, I hollared for Shelly (the cousin) to come and have a look, and when she did, she collapsed onto the floor laughing too.
Mom had walked out wearing a strapless full costume that high lighted her buxom bosom and tummy, and finished off just under her thighs, ala sixties style. To make it worse, she finished off her bright blue cozzie with a shocking orange serong tied to the side, and a hideous white cricket hat, with made-in-china gucci sunglasses peering over her flat nose that we always tease her about.
In my state of hysteria, I managed to grab my camera and took the following picture:

(she will kill me when she sees this on my blog – sorry ma – I couldn’t resist!)
Last week when I called my mom to tell her about Andrew, I arrived at her house amidst chaos and screaming children, my brothers throwing a rugby ball to each other in the lounge, TV blaring, her bent over the baby feeding him some horrendous looking sludge, Kimbo and Wallnut were with me, he plonked himself in front of the PS2 and raced wok in some nintendo something or other with the volume on full ball. While Kimbo went to help herself to the fridge contents, I sat on the couch and cried while I told Mom the details. In spite of having her hands full with the household, she still took the time to let me put my head on her shoulders and pretend to not cry when I looked up into her eyes.
As angry as she is for me about Andrew, she hurts more knowing that my heart was breaking, and I know it must have been hard for her to not say the things that people usually say in order to make you feel better about death. She knew I didn’t need it, and she knew how much I hate what other peoples idea of comforting someone is.
The thing I love about her most is, no matter how little she understands my world of technology, or my brothers love of rodents and insects, or the amount she despises most of Kev’s bachelor friends, she still gets involved and gets interested.
I’ve tried to explain umpteen times what having an online relationship with someone is like, friendship or more, and even though she will never fully get it, she supports me and celebrates with me in joy when one of my special computer friends achieves something in life, and commiserates too when something bad happens. Once I had created Moms facebook account for her, she sent me wall postings of a rather embarrassing nature in the way that it was personal, and I had to hack her account in order to delete the messages, but not before ten of my friends saw the messages and hooted with laughter at my insane mother.
She’s special. And a mom in a million. I love the way she laughs with her children, and cries with them. I love the way she is loyal to those people in her life that sometimes aren’t loyal back. I laugh at her all the time, and she makes me feel like anything in the world is possible, just by being herself – she inspires confidence and care in everyone else around her.
My mom is awesome, and if I turn out to be half the person she is oneday, that will be more than satisfactory. I will leave you with another photo I took of her last week, in one of our illegal lunch breaks, where she needed to destress: