Blogging is a curious thing if you think about it. Why do we feel the need to write/take pictures of our lives and splatter them across Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and who knows what else. I don’t know, people are weird. I’m weird.
Here’s the deal: I don’t want to read about a mom who home-schools twelve children while running her dream dairy farm in the beautiful country side as she takes amazing pictures of her children with her seven-hundred dollar camera. That’s not reality for a lot of people. If you’re capable, then good for you. My mom can’t do or afford any of those things at this point in her life and I don’t want her to feel like she’s somehow not as good as that woman.
So mom, thank you for being imperfect. Thank you for managing to do everything you do even though it may not be glamorous. Even though we don’t live in a $500,000 home, what we have is enough. I’m pleased with all the material things that I have, Mom. When you come home from wiping patients butts all day at the hospital, I want to have a meal ready and a clean house waiting for you. It’s the least I can do.
Here’s to you, Mom.