My Mother

I have always wondered if I picked my mom, or she picked me? Does anyone else think like that?

I wanted to grow up just like my mother. I have always adored her beauty and talents that she holds. I was lucky to get a few of her attributes...but I look like my father.

My mother and I had a good relationship. We worked well together. She knew me, and I knew her. We knew when to not step over....to get on each others nerves.

As a teenager, I loved her clothes. She had style. I remember sneaking into her jewelry box or closet. She got frusterated. But, let me wear em' anyway.

She taught me how to work. She always had a project. She would create a quilt, a dress, she would create a dance routine for the ward roadshow, she would be painting some room, making curtains, mowing the lawn, running chilren to ball practice, refurbishing some piece of furniture. She had plenty of callings in the ward. Always throwing together some production! She was dependable and on time! I appreciate her teaching me how to "Do your best, and Flush the Rest"!

Thank you for being my mother. Thank you for doing my laundry, fixing my hair, making my meals, cleaning the house, running me to everything, and living the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Now that I am a mother, I wonder....How did my mom do it all those years? I even call her and ask her...."How did you survive?" "Will I survive?" It is a hard job....but oh how i wish I could be a mother to many more.

I am in love with my three beauties. I am blessed to be a mother.

I love you, MOM!