The Last Year of Non-Eligibility

Disclaimer: After writing this I realized that this entry is really sappy.

Today the world, I guess(is Mother's Day a World Holiday?), is celebrating Mother's Day. A single day in which we all think back about what Moms have sacrificed to raise us and make us who we are. When I think back about my Mom I think about how she gave up her career as an Olympic volleyball medalist so that she could raise my sister and I, and so my Dad could fulfill his dream of one day being a horse jockey.
None of that is true. My Mom had 2 kids, raised my dad into a semi functional adult, and she had a career that she loved until the day she retired. If had written this entry a year ago I would have said that my Mom was your typical American Mom. Nothing too crazy, nothing out of the ordinary.

But I would be wrong. There is nothing ordinary about being a Mom.

And the reason I know this to be wrong is because as of today there is a peach sized little Massey dwelling in my wife as she sits in the recliner next to me watching Netflix. We have barely passed the first trimester and I can say without a doubt that there is absolutely nothing normal about being a mother. Her body has dealt with changes that would make me contemplate slamming my garage door on my head to avoid, and yet, she still gets up everyday and goes to work, educating the minds of a generation of children, and she comes home and gets to deal with the 36 year old man-child that she married. She puts up with my mistakes, the annoying way I hover over her making sure I'm at least 2 feet away in case she needs something, and countless other things. And you know whats even crazier than all that? She's technically not even a Mom yet. Shoot, we haven't even gotten to the hard part yet. You know, the part where the kid comes and you are terrified that one night it will wake up crying and you'll get it out the crib and realize it needs to be fed but you accidentally put it in the pantry and feed the bottle to the box of cereal that you pulled out and are currently cradling in your arms at 3am in the morning after being asleep for 25 minutes. You know, that hard part? And that just when its a baby.  We haven't even gotten to the part where it makes decisions and you finally discover how much Massey it has in it. What if it loves cheese? What if it thinks that the Beatles are overrated? What if it genuinely believes that the Backstreet Boys are better than N'SYNC? How will I handle that?

I'll tell you. I'll love it. Because that's what my Mom did for me. She loved me for everything I was (smart, funny, handsome, musically talented, humble-obviously) in spite of what I wasn't (tall). She didn't care. She loved me with no conditions at all and what else can anyone ask for from their mom?

I know that Amanda will do the exact same thing, because Amanda's mom did it for her. We were both blessed to be the children of amazing women who sacrificed anything and everything to give us life and to give us a life.

Of course, this reminds me of one of the great underrated songs "And I Love Her" by The Beatles. (Just FYI, I am contractually obligated to mention The Beatles in each blog entry) Anyways, the first verse of the song reminds me so much of my wife:

I give her all my love
That's All I do
And if you saw my Love
You'd love her too
I love her.

I think that verse could apply to parents and their children.