What It Takes To Make A Mom!

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You really can’t talk about mom without getting all squishy — especially less than 48 hours before her special day.  But, let’s face it: there have to be some moms out there who aren’t worth the name.  Mothers who, for some reason, flunked out of Mom School and are just totally bad at the job.  We’ve all met them, but for the most part, we give them a free pass because mom is the toughest occupation in history.  The truth is, although any woman can be a biological mother, it takes an exceptional person to be a mom.  Here are just a few examples of what it takes to be a mom.  I’m sure there are others.

Moms know when to shut up. – Good day/bad day, headache, massive gastric distress or bird poop on her favourite jacket: it doesn’t matter what kind of a crappy day a mom is having; she will always set it aside to listen to your problems.

Moms knows when to look the other way. – Whether it’s a pile of unattended toys or a “No, mom.  I’m just tired,” teenage hangover, moms realize that not everything is etched in stone.  We all do stupid stuff growing up (and keep doing it when we’re adults) but moms have an uncanny ability to overlook things that are not worth looking at.

Moms understand food. – Even in the 21st century, when traditional mom stuff is being attacked on all sides, food is still hardwired into a mom’s DNA.  She knows how much is too much ice cream, why Brussels Sprouts are verboten at Thanksgiving, and which pizza cures a broken heart.  Sometimes it’s a favourite dessert, sometimes strategically placed leftovers or sometimes just tea on a lonely afternoon, but all moms use food like a culinary antibiotic.

Moms are always first. – Moms might sometimes be the first one to point out where you screwed up (normally for your own good?) but they’re always the first to defend your sorry ass when you do.

Moms know the difference. – Legend has it that moms can identify their child’s cry from across a playground.  Maybe.  But the truth is moms can instinctively tell which blood curdling scream is a medical emergency and which one is a candidate for a hug and a Band-Aid.  This only gets better with age, BTW, so what you might believe is a life-ending divorce your mom knows is only a minor detour on the road to grandchildren.

But the most important thing that makes a mother a mom is:

Moms never give up. – The difference between a mom and Davy Crockett at the Alamo is – uh – nothing!  No matter how many years it takes, your mom is going to be the last mom standing between you and the cold world.  You may have been crossing the street by yourself for 40 years, but every time you do it, your mom is worried that you didn’t look both ways.  A mom never tires, never wavers and never takes a day off.  She knows you better than anyone else on the planet – warts and all.  And she might not say it every time; she might not show it every time; she might not even think it every time; but from before you’re even born, she always has your best interests at heart – every time.

What Time Is It?

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Our lives are governed by time – that artificial construct that measures everything we do.  We divide our days into minutes and hours.  We multiply our days by weeks and months.  And we commemorate our years with an annual cake-and-candles celebration.  We work by the clock, sleep by the clock, arrive and depart by the clock and even play games by the clock.  Our language is full of references to time.  We say things like “fast food,”  “running late,” “split second” and “give me a minute.”  These phrases mean more than their literal meaning and everybody understands that.  Yet, despite our apparent obsession with all things temporal, there are lots of occasions that we don’t bother to measure or even name.  These are regular events that happen to everyone, so it seems weird that we treat them so casually.  Here are just a few examples — and I’m sure the world would be a better place if they had names.  Feel free to offer suggestions!

The time we spend waiting for doctors.  Every doctor, from Boston to Beirut, has a waiting room, and it’s called a waiting room for a reason.  It’s where we go to wait until – I don’t know — your name comes up in the lottery?  And this doesn’t just happen once in a while – it’s every time.  Personally (given this kind of regularity) I think we should have a name for the time we all spend rehearsing our symptoms and looking at out-of-date magazines.

The length of time between when the repairman says:
“No problem!  We’ll get this taken care of in a couple of hours.”
And
“Nah!  We had to order the part from the manufacturer in Borneo, and we have no idea when it’s going to get here.”
There should be a name for that feeling of gathering doom.

The length of time it takes to get rid of a headache.  I guess we could just call it “to infinity and beyond” and get it over with.

The time between when we buy the gym membership (and swear by all that’s holy we’re going to go 3 times a week) and the time we take the membership card out of our wallets to make room for the Cupcake-of-the-Month card.

The time we spend in a traffic jam, between when every car within 10 kilometres (6.21 miles) slows down to a crawl, and when we discover that there was no road construction, no collision, no dead pedestrians: in fact, no reason whatsoever for traffic to come to a standstill.  Frustration should have a name.

The time we spend with the remote control, dancing through the Netflix’s selections, trying to find something really, really good to watch.

The time between now and never.  This is a negotiable unit of measure that lasts from the time we say something like, “I’ll never drink tequila, again” and the time we think “What the hell” and pull out the Jose Cuervo.

The time between when the computer guy (it’s always a guy) starts telling us what to do to fix the problem and the time we realize we don’t understand a word of this gibberish and start jamming the keyboard — like a Rhesus monkey looking for a food pellet.

But my favourite is:

That situation when something important is going to happen in the near future and we’re completely ready for it.  We’ve done all the prep, got dressed, gathered our stuff, been to the toilet, etc., etc., and now … and now ….  Suddenly, there’s not enough time to do anything but too much time to do nothing.  Seriously!  This needs a name.

Another Bit Of Fun

For all those posting “spoilers” to Avengers End Game and all those posting theories about Game of Thrones, let’s remember that tomorrow is the 4th of May, the day that started it all.  So …

may-the-4th