Red Haired Mary
Red Haired Mary is my mom. I couldn't have asked for a better one, frankly.
I like to call her momster.
She was always the most comforting person in my life, even when she was too frazzled to protect me from the torture my sister inflicted on me. I clearly remember her hollering from the other room for us to knock it off!! as though I was equally responsible for being pinned down and tickled.
She took me to my first and only Badger football game, and I think she was thrilled that we had a day together filled with such excitement.
We snuggled on the couch under blankets together in those cold dark f-f-freezing days of winter.
My first clear memory of her -- I'm five years old. She's sitting on a chair where I try to squeeze in next to her. She says, in a strained voice, "No, honey, you can't sit with me right now." Then my dad took her to the hospital where she birthed my little brother. I suppose labor pains are as good an excuse as any to have your chair to yourself.
I am embarrassed to admit that I think I judged her more harshly as a parent than I did my dad. She did the best she could with six unplanned for kids and no money. She made the best Bisquik pancakes around.
She was there for me in the most hellish times of my life, although I don't think it was easy for her. She was there in the awesome times too, sharing in the happiness of adding new babies to the family, for example.
One of the coolest things she did was take all of us to the beach almost every single weekday during the summers. I realize now that she probably did this more for her own sanity than for us kids but it ROCKED! We would sometimes stop at the donut shop on the way home for a treat, and the not knowing if we would do that or not was truly part of the fun.
The song I linked to above makes me think of her whenever I hear it, first because she IS red haired Mary, and secondly because she and dad would flirt all the damn time. It was SO embarrassing, but it gave me a very good example of an affectionate couple.
I feel privileged to have her in my life.
I like to call her momster.
She was always the most comforting person in my life, even when she was too frazzled to protect me from the torture my sister inflicted on me. I clearly remember her hollering from the other room for us to knock it off!! as though I was equally responsible for being pinned down and tickled.
She took me to my first and only Badger football game, and I think she was thrilled that we had a day together filled with such excitement.
We snuggled on the couch under blankets together in those cold dark f-f-freezing days of winter.
My first clear memory of her -- I'm five years old. She's sitting on a chair where I try to squeeze in next to her. She says, in a strained voice, "No, honey, you can't sit with me right now." Then my dad took her to the hospital where she birthed my little brother. I suppose labor pains are as good an excuse as any to have your chair to yourself.
I am embarrassed to admit that I think I judged her more harshly as a parent than I did my dad. She did the best she could with six unplanned for kids and no money. She made the best Bisquik pancakes around.
She was there for me in the most hellish times of my life, although I don't think it was easy for her. She was there in the awesome times too, sharing in the happiness of adding new babies to the family, for example.
One of the coolest things she did was take all of us to the beach almost every single weekday during the summers. I realize now that she probably did this more for her own sanity than for us kids but it ROCKED! We would sometimes stop at the donut shop on the way home for a treat, and the not knowing if we would do that or not was truly part of the fun.
The song I linked to above makes me think of her whenever I hear it, first because she IS red haired Mary, and secondly because she and dad would flirt all the damn time. It was SO embarrassing, but it gave me a very good example of an affectionate couple.
I feel privileged to have her in my life.
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