Sweetpea’s Garden

I’ve written often about my dad here on the blog, since his death was one of the things that spurred me to start it. I haven’t, however, written much about my mom. Since she’s a frequent commenter, I’ve let her speak for herself. It’s also surprisingly awkward and intimidating to write about someone knowing that they will read it. But It’s Mothers’ Day, and I feel like it’s Mom’s turn to get her due here in blogland. So, here’s a little bit about the woman I am proud to call my mom.

Mom was born before the Baby Boom, and raised in in a very traditional, blue-collar way — girls grew up to be teachers and secretaries while waiting for their turns to be wives and mothers, and boys went to college, had careers, and left the child-rearing to the women. And while she had wonderful parents and a great upbringing, she very specifically chose a different path for her own family. I don’t know if my mom would call herself a feminist, but that is absolutely the way she raised us. I literally cannot think of a time when we weren’t told that we could be anything we wanted to be, and that it was important for us to think for ourselves, stand up for ourselves, and know how to support ourselves. (And if you know any of the three of us in the outside world, you know that we’re pretty independent and mouthy, so it may have worked a little too well.)

She led us by example by going back to work when we were in grade school; showing us that, yes, moms could have jobs, but that being super-woman and “having it all” — as was the trend in the 80s — was not easy. It involved everyone in the family, including Dad, contributing to the household, and we did — with varying degrees of success, I will admit. I never did quite get the hang of keeping my room clean, but I could (and can still) iron better and faster than most people.

Another important lesson I learned from my mom was not to mistake education for intelligence. She never had a chance to go to college, but is one of the smartest and most curious people I know. I think all of the lawyers she has worked for over the years would agree that, had circumstances been different, they would have been as proud to have her as a colleague as support staff. And more than a few of them might even admit that her smarts have, on many occasions, contributed directly to their success.

A long way of getting to my original point: Mom, you rock. I love you very much.

Happy Mothers’ Day!

I am down in Houston for a few days visiting my sister (the lovely Snapdragon) and her husband, and our brother and his family are here, too. Yesterday, the seven of us hopped into the rental minivan and headed to the beach — Galveston Island, to be specific. It was a perfect day: sunny and warm, with no humidity.

The beach, however, is a dangerous place for us. We are the whitest of folk, and prone to sunburn in ways that few can even imagine. The nephews were basted regularly in heavy-duty sunscreen, and BigBrother wisely put some on, too. (The in-law siblings both have normal skin that can withstand sun a little bit better, so I have to admit that I didn’t notice whether or not they used any.) Snapdragon and I, however, decided to ignore the impending disaster and hit the beach sans SPF. After all, we were wandering around in capris and t-shirts, not bikinis. What could happen?

This, as it turns out:

And this:

We are both in our mid-30s; you’d think we would have enough sense by now to see this coming. But no, we repeat this every year. It’s as if we expect that, one of these winters, our skin will go though some sort of amazing transition and actually produce melanin. But no…

A great deal of sunscreen will be worn to today’s Astros game, I can tell you.

We are not a hearts and flowers family. Greeting cards are much more likely to have that grumpy old lady saying something sarcastic or off-color. Although I can’t remember the last time I actually got a card in the mail in time to get it to someone by the actual occasion. Such is the case today - Sweetpea save yourself a trip to the mailbox - there is no card - sorry! (But there will be chocolate cake when you get here!)

So instead I decided a “public birthday greeting” would suffice. I thought I’d try something new…

If you had asked me when I was little if I thought my big sister would be one of my best friends in this world, I’m not sure what I would have said. Of course, I love my big sister but as a kid I didn’t think we had much in common - she’s a book worm, a night owl, creative and artistic, articulate, intelligent, knows how to have fun, and so many more things than I can list.

Sweetpea writes beautifully and has put in to words thoughts that I can’t even get out of my head (there have been quite a few of those in this last year). And my big sis has always had the confidence to march to her own drummer. She lives life fully. Truth be told, I’m inspired by her coolness.

So I decided today that I’d rather her tell her this than think it but not say it. And on her birthday seems like the perfect opportunity. I miss our Saturday morning strolls through Eastern Market and our almost weekly dinners at La Lomita. Thanks for being such an awesome big sister. I can’t wait for you to come visit.

I love you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!