Momma's Boy

Apparently there is some new television show called Momma's Boy that starts this week. It will be about mothers who don't think any woman is good enough for their sons, etc., etc. For some reason hubby says I should watch. That's not going to happen. For one, I don't get into reality TV and secondly, I'm not ready for that crystal ball moment just yet.

I was thinking about mothers today, though. Carter had his Sunday School Christmas program this afternoon. Each year we've presented the Christmas story from a different perspective. This year it was Christmas through the eyes of Mary.

Carter delivered his narration crisp and clear -- and the rest of the program was interesting, too. I forget sometimes that Mary was a mere teenager (not even old enough to drive in today's world) when this frightening but blessed event took place. How would any of us handle that situation? She had to be pretty strong in her faith. Can you imagine the pressure of trying to be a good mom? I'm sure just like every other mother, including me of course, she thought her son was the center of the universe. In her case, he was! The rest of us moms, I bet, will still argue our case. That's a mother for you.

After the program, we had to go to the funeral home for a visitation. The mother of some friends of ours died of cancer. Jim knows the whole family well and I know the three "boys" (Jim's age and older). We see them all summer at the races. This mother, like probably most of us moms, loved her kids and not only that, she cared what was happening to their friends, too. When we walked in, the funeral director handed Jim a newspaper clipping that the family had found in their mom's possessions. It was clipped from 1979 and pictured a handsome young teenager named Jim Austin sharing his opinion on the drinking age. Interesting. And what a cutie!

The family said their mom had a ton (probably literally) of newspaper clippings and such that she saved over the years. That's what moms do, right? What a special gift to all of us now to know how much she cared beyond her family circle. That's a mother for you.

My mom actually called me twice this weekend. Not a regular occurrence. When she called yesterday she was letting me know she was mailing some old picture she had saved. She called today to figure out a few rules on a dice game we taught them over Thanksgiving weekend. I asked, "Doesn't Dad remember?" She said, "I'm not going to say because I know he's on the other line listening in. I can hear him breathing."

Oh, and people wonder where I get my competitive nature! Or, in a more positive light, you could say I'm just blessed with spirit. That's a mother for you. And I'm grateful to be part of the club.