Mother’s Day.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all the moms I know and love!

In honor of this blessed day, I thought I’d stage a little game, one I call, “Who Is This Person?”  I’ll show you a picture of me and someone else, and you have to guess who the other person is.

Are you ready?

Here’s the photo:

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Okay, so there I am.  On the left.  Now who is that woman on the right?

Total stranger?  Aunt by marriage?  Family friend?

No, no, no, everyone.  That woman is…

MY MOM!

(Surprised???  If she didn’t call me all the time to ask me to text my brother to make sure he isn’t dead, then I would also be really surprised.  But, alas, I am well aware we are related.)

Despite never being sure that she brought the right infant home from the hospital, my mother made me (and eventually my two brothers) her entire world.  She left her law job to stay home and raise the three of us, throwing us fantastical birthday parties, for which she’d make, from scratch, cakes, pinatas, and six-foot tall themed decorations, cut out from plywood and handpainted by Mom.

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Nightmare Before Christmas party decor from The Middle Child’s fifth birthday twenty years ago, repurposed as a Christmas decoration at my parents’ house last year.

She read us chapters from epic novels every night before we went to sleep, drew silly cartoons on our lunchbags and napkins every morning, and was always there to pick us up from school (except for the two times she forgot, which I have never allowed her to live down).  My mom made us her ultimate focus from the days we were born; she has done a spectacularly selfless, thankless job for nearly three decades, and I am forever grateful to her for making it very clear, every single day, that we were loved and supported, even when we were terrorizing the house and shattering priceless lead crystal family heirlooms smuggled out of Eastern Europe by our great-grandparents.

I love you, Mom!  Thank you!

My husband and I spent the day with my entire family at my grandparents’ house, alternating between broiling in the 100 degree weather and freezing our feet off in a subzero pool.  We helped my mom plan out our first, all-family vacation requiring an airplane.  (More on that later.)

And my grandpa wore a great shirt:

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My grandfather, king of the world.

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Also, for some reason, I’ve had this song on a loop in my head all day and I wanted to extend that some courtesy to all of you.  It’s the least I can do:

That’s all I’ve got.  And yet, strangely, it feels like just enough.

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