the scarlet letter

I went shopping this morning at my favorite "big girl" store. I always go straight to the back first, 'cause that's where the clearance racks are.

I couldn't help but giggle when I saw a turn-around carrying "Fat Girl Fitness Clothing" tucked away in the back corner! No joke. A true oxymoron if ever there was one.

Anyway, closer to the front of the store, I discovered a cute top - 3/4 sleeves, v-neck, had an all-over design that looked French - coffee cups, Eiffel Tower, fleur-de-lis. "Fun!", I thought, so I pulled it out. Strategically scripted acrss the left chest was the word, "Chocolate." But I just couldn't do it. Obviously, I'm as guilty of loving my pure chocolate as Hester Prynne was of "loving" her Puritan minister, but do I really need to wear the symbol of my plus-sized shame emblazoned across my clothing like a scarlet letter? Methinks not.

happy mother's day!

I remember waking every morning to mom’s ear-piercing verbal rendition of “Reveille” (the military’s morning bugle call) while she sprung the window shades open. "Rise & Shine" she'd say!

I remember toast for breakfast – the cinnamon or cheese variety, of course.

I remember Bible stories she read every night before scratching my back, tucking me into bed, and reminding me to say my prayers.

I remember, regardless of weather or time restraints, posing for annual Easter pictures. (Weren't the 80's just the greatest decade for hair?)

I remember hot chocolate on snow days - the kind you cook on the stove with real milk.

I remember mom always pretending to be fooled when I faked sick so I could stay home from school.

I remember her reading the “Little House on the Prairie” books aloud so many times I could quote them.

In my head I can still vividly hear the words she yelled each and every morning as I left for school, “Have a good day and DON’T KISS ANY BOYS!!!!!”

I remember playing games together in the afternoons – but ONLY after homework was finished.

I remember mom’s groans through countless reruns of Gilligan’s Island. (In retrospect, the groans were warranted.)

I remember her being my Girl Scout troop leader, room mother, band booster, Sunday School teacher.

I sing "Rise & Shine" to my children in the mornings. I have read the "Little House" books aloud to my kids at least 4 times. I make my kids pose for Easter pictures. And, although I opt for the Swiss Miss microwavable hot chocolate, I have, for all practical purposes, become my mother. She shaped who I am. When I hear myself speak or see my reflection, there is no doubt I belong to her.

I love you, MOM! Happy Mother's Day!