Happy Mother's Day, Mom

Mom,

I was going to write a post about how you used to say, "One day when you're a mother, you'll understand". I was going to say that I do understand now, and that I finally appreciate you - I mean REALLY appreciate you - but, then I started thinking. To really, and I mean REALLY understand what you did for me, I would have to do the following...

*Go through childbirth alone, while my husband complained about the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area (sorry, Dad, I couldn't resist).
*Go through the baby stage with a baby who cried every time I gave her milk, because (who knew) she was allergic to milk.
*Put up with a child who liked to whine (I still don't believe I was a whiner, but you told me not to whine when I went to Kennywood with Mame, and she thought you said I wasn't allowed to "ride").
*Make countless bowls of chicken noodle soup, and jello to give a kid who got sick a lot.
*Worry. Worry. Worry.
*Leave my child in the hospital so she could get tested for allergies and try desperately not to laugh when the nurses tell me my little girl baricaded the door with a gurney so they couldn't get in.
*Take my little girl to get allergy shots every week, even though she absolutely hated it.
*Read countless books to her, and give her a love of reading and words.
*Plan and throw awesome birthday parties each and every year.
*Cook perfectly balanced meals and constantly shove bowls of cut up fruit at her to keep her healthy.
*Help her with her homework, and help her study for tests.
*Feel left out when she gives her dad all the attention.
*Put up with her crazy friends, and the way teenagers can't seem to finish a sentence, and the giggling.
*Decide to start driving her to school when she tells you "there was a strange smell on the bus today, and I started feeling weird".
*Worry. Worry. Worry.
*Send my baby off to college, not wanting to let her go yet. Miss her like crazy, when the house suddenly becomes very quiet.
*Think about her, and talk about her way too much. Send her countless cards, letters, and care packages.
*Bite my tongue and keep it to myself when she starts dating a boy that I know is all wrong for her. Put up with him for 3 1/2 long years.
*Console her when he breaks her heart, knowing that it is the best thing that could have happened.
*Pray every day for her.
*Stay up, even though I am exhausted, until my now-an-adult daughter stays out very late at clubs, wondering what she is doing and when she'll be home.
*Worry. Worry. Worry.
*Support my daughter, instead of strangling her, when she decides to go to graduate school at the college she should have gone to in the first place because it was free.
*Rejoice for my daughter when she meets a man that I do approve of, then watch her go through unspeakable pain when she loses him four days before their wedding. Try to be there for her in any way I possibly can, as I always have.
*Be patient while she goes through a myriad of emotions and sometimes takes out her anger and pain on me.
*Be supportive of my daughter as she goes from one job to the next to the next.
*Rejoice again when she meets another wonderful man and plans to get married in Jamaica, and not invite anyone (including me) to the wedding.
*Be estatic when she finally gives me a grandchild, and be as great of a grandma as I was a mom.

Thanks for all of that, and so much more, Mom. I love you and I appreciate you, and all that you do.