I’ve gone out of my way to hatch a plan for her anxiety disorder and she comes to Georgia is a total douche.

Before you kick me in the esophagus on her behalf, give me a chance to explain.

Writing a story is hard.

Whether it’s Lifetime-movie-of-the-week dramatic of spleen-splitting humor, it’s difficult to tell a tale that stands out from the millions of others on shelves.

Then Jenny comes along.

She’s able to take topics that are serious at their core. Then wrap them in her hilarious presentation. They become universal and identifiable. Touchable. Real.

People realize that if this funny, loveable person can be full of her brand of crazy, it’s ok to admit that we all are.

And she’s an excellent writer.

It makes it very hard to be faced with the task of trying to write a tragic topic and infuse your humor in it. Why even bother?

DOUCHE-CABOOSE!

If you haven’t read her book, you are a fool and we’re all mocking you behind your back. DO IT.

If you’re never been to her site, I’ll assume you’ve been in a coma and say SO HAVE I THAT IS NO EXCUSE!!

Not THAT conversation.

We had that conversation a long time ago.

It involved graphs and diagrams and cookies.

My 14yo son wanted to tell me about the funny thing his school buddies did. The story began with, ” These retards...”

A piece of me curled up and wanted to die.

The little one in the picture the left is my cousin Jennifer (I’m on the right, don’t you want to die from the cuteness?).

We grew up together.

To me there was no do difference in the three little girls in the picture.

No race difference. No mental handicaps. No irrational need for straight towels.

There was just love. Family. Complete and total acceptance.

When I hear the word “retarded” come from the lips of MY OWN CHILD it hurts me.

How do I make him understand what it feels like to see Jennifer’s struggles?  To know there is no love as pure as the emotion she is capable of giving.

I ache to define this mother moment of “YES! I understand that you want to laugh at what seems funny to everyone else, but be strong enough to never laugh at the expense of others.”

I’m trying to raise these humans that will be respectful of the difficulties of others, whatever they may be.

You’d think that with what all we’ve been through it would come naturally.

It doesn’t.

It is a part of parenting that is as hard as any other.

I was a beaming 23 when I brought home my first baby.

A little older when my first daughter took her wobbly steps.

I felt ancient at my youngest’s cancer bedside.

Next year I am the mom of a high schooler, a middle schooler and one in elementary school.

They astound me with their ability to accept change.

They amaze me each day with the laughter they produce.

The best of me. The best of him. Three extraordinary people.

I had a hand in creating. I’m constantly molding. I see dreams of impossible beauty in their eyes.

A day long ago I wished to never have children.

Every day is the mother’s gift of a wish unfulfilled.

I’ve been a mother for 14 years.

I’ve known mothers who fought a daily battle with emotional, mental or physical disease in their own bodies.

I’ve knows mothers who would have gladly fought those battles for their child if they could.

I’ve known single mothers who have struggled to make gaping ends meet.

I’ve known a surrogate mother who gave a woman, unable to carry her child, the opportunity to hold her baby in her arms.

I’ve known mothers that walked out of hospitals without their babies, while another woman’s status changed just by walking in.

When Cozi challenged me to to “Make Another Mother’s Day“, I thought to myself “For real? How do I pick one?”

I mean, how would I decide one’s need for a little gift is greater than someone else’s?

Since I’m wise like a mofo (that’s the clinical term), I decided to donate the amount Cozi offered to pay me to write this post to another charity called Kiva.

Kiva is a non-profit organization fueled by a mission in which they seek to end poverty by lending.  “Kiva lets individuals lend as little as $25 to help create opportunity around the world.”  Funds are lent in order to meet various needs of borrowers including clothing, transportation, agriculture and housing.

The money can be repaid and then lent to another in need. It creates a sense of accomplishment. Of pride.

This is all I can think to do.

So in honor of all the mothers I have known, respected and loved I wish you a Happy Mother’s Day.

Disclaimer:

This post was sponsored by Cozi, but all opinions and decisions are mine.