I want my mommy!

She used to sweep my bangs across my forehead and put barrettes in my hair to hold it in place. Those plastic barrettes in very girly shapes and colours. Like pink flowers or purple bows. She did this so she could see my face because even through my most awkward freckly phase, she thought I was beautiful. And sometimes at night, she would play with my hair. Not because she liked to but because it was the only thing that would eventually put me to sleep in a bout of insomnia. I miss her laughter. Especially while telling me what crazy thing I did sleep-walking the night before. I think she laughed mostly at my teenagery look of absolute horror once I learned what I had said or done.

When I was 12, my mom and dad were called to the principal’s office because I staged quite a successful walk-out at school. I felt my teacher greatly favoured the boys over the girls and since our class only had about 3 boys in it, a game of baseball became quite difficult when all the girls just sat in the outfield and didn’t budge. At least not until gym was over. I remember how proud I was to have her as my mother when her reaction to the teacher was ‘what if she has a point? Perhaps it’s you that needs to think about what you’ve done!’ Then I think of how horrified I was of having her as my mother the next time we were at McDonald’s and it took 10 minutes and she said (more like yelled) to the manager ‘is this your definition of fast food?’ Although, I was happy again when we walked out with free sundaes!

Once, I made her sit 3 rows behind me in a movie theatre so that she wouldn’t embarrass me and my friends. She didn’t mind – I think it was the years of inflicting guilt that she enjoyed afterward...and it worked...I still feel guilty about it.

Her sigh of relief after my 19 year old self walked into her office at work to tell her I was pregnant and I was keeping it. When she wasn’t disappointed in me but disappointed for me. Trust me...there’s a huge difference! Or when she danced with her newborn granddaughter to Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me over and over again because it was the only thing that would make Sarah settle enough to fall asleep.

The look on her face when we went to the casino and I was asked to show some ID and she ranted about how she was my mother and I was a mother myself with 2 daughters. And the shock when she sarcastically asked the security guard if he needed to see her ID and without missing a beat he replied ‘no, that won’t be necessary m’am’. I can still giggle about that one!

I miss seeing that look a mother gives her daughter. One full of happiness and pride and hope. I would catch it every once in a while when she thought I wasn’t looking and our eyes would meet and I’ve never felt so adored in my entire life.

I’m sick with a cold and it’s kicking my ass. And even though I’m 34, I’m reduced to being a child and just really want my mom!