it's the mother's day episode hurry everyone go grab a mother and tell them to subscribe to my newsletter

May 14, 2023

A wise woman once said, “Motherhood is the biggest gamble in the world. It is the glorious life force. It’s huge and scary—it’s an act of infinite optimism.”

But my mother, Michele with one L, said, “I wish I hadn’t stolen you from the hospital.”

My family was never big on days like Mother’s Day or Father’s Day — and absolutely never Daughter’s Day :/ — but since my brother and I are both in town, it seemed like a day to treat more seriously.

I got my mom this little bracelet with a gem on it, where if you look inside the gem, you see a photo. The photo I chose was of my mom as a child with her mom. Very sweet, I know.

My brother got her a bidet. So… You can decide what was more thoughtful.

If you really think about it, every day is Mother’s Day. That’s another quote from my mom. Every day that I answer my mom’s FaceTime (which is every day) or she answers mine (which is also every day), it’s Mother’s Day. Every time it was 6:30 am and I was sleeping in my room and my mom chose that exact time to throw all of the pots and pans against the wall in the kitchen (that can be the only reason why it was so loud in there), it’s Mother’s Day. Every time I’m in another state or country and I call my mom telling her that I’m so hungover and that it’s her fault because she didn’t tell me to take it easy and drink water and then she looks at me and shouts (not in sign language) WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO FROM HERE KERRY … it’s Mother’s Day. And every time she sat on the couch and I sat next to her giving her no air to breathe even though there was so much couch left to sit on, it was Mother’s Day. It’s nice to be back in Chicago at the same time as this. To be able to stare at my mom and get mad in person when she isn’t giving me attention feels very nice. I always feel like I’m not getting that same point across through a phone.

In my experience, being a mom is all about humbling your children — letting them know that they’re special but that even though you made the JV soccer team, you weren’t on the Varsity team for a reason. Or the fact that you played so many sports growing up that you felt like you were good at and then your mom continues to tell everyone that Irish dancing was your best sport — humbling. The most humbling thing about my mom is that she’s a horrible actor. I can ask her for an opinion on something I’m wearing, and she’ll say it looks nice — but her face says absolutely not. And then I go change. Or in non-humbling moments — ones that make me a little too confident in my skills — my mom helps with that, too. It takes my mom about 11 minutes to tell a joke. This makes me feel way better when I tell jokes. It makes me feel like I’m Joan Rivers. Compared to my mom, I am the greatest joke-teller. But according to my mom, I am the greatest Irish dancer. Which one’s the truth? I guess we’ll never know.

My mom is one of the kindest ladies out there. All she wants is to do good. She went to all of my brother’s shows and lots of my sports games. In soccer, when the ball would go out of bounds, my mom would wave off the referee and go get the ball herself. She has more school pride for my high school than I did, and I literally founded the pep club. Don’t ask me about that. She’s been a social worker for two decades. She tells me I’m pretty. Just now, she asked if I wanted any tea and then she brought me tea. And she taught me American Sign Language, which has helped in all aspects of my life and not just in communicating with her. I know a lot of you probably have great moms, but let it be known that my mom is the best. Here’s a famous poem about my mom specifically:

Oh, Michele, oh, Michele

Michele with one L

While she may not hear me

She knows me very well

Singing an unknown melody to a familiar song

She often reminds me that she can do no wrong

Whenever I’m bored and call her on the phone

She gives me a look that shouts, “Leave me alone”

And even though I live far away

I know that we will live together again someday

And you may be wondering how I know where we’ll go

It is only because she has told me so

Thank you, Mom, for raising me right

And know that when I’m away, I miss you every night.

But also know that sometimes when I’m in a bad mood when you call me it’s literally because my alarm goes off at 9 am for work and you choose to call me two minutes before 9 am and then it completely takes away all of the sleep I got that night and sometimes I actually get a whole eight hours and it’s almost like I pulled an all-nighter instead and so when you call at that time I get super annoyed and would totally appreciate if you called at, like, 9:01 am or something because that’s after the alarm goes off but if 8:58 am is truly the best time for you to call I will sacrifice my sleep to talk to you about how you’re bored in traffic.

And also know that if I do not answer your call, it is because I am sick.

So that last line wasn’t the best ending, but it rhymed with traffic, and the poem had to rhyme. This poem was written by Maya Angelou, I believe. My mom knew a lot of people.

On that note, I’m ending this week’s newsletter! Just realized that I’m an hour ahead in Chicago and that this is due in two minutes. I LOVE YOU MOM. Here’s a photo of our family:

Where did the third child in our family go??? How many of us did you steal at the hospital???

movie rec: Steel Magnolias (1989)

ONLY REC RIGHT NOW I’M COOKING MY MOM DINNER I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS