#3: Mom

(This is the third post in a series of 'women who have shaped my life'. I got this idea from Bre. Smartypants.)

I know what you are thinking. #3? This woman tortured her body to give birth to you and she's #3? She endured months of pregnancy, hours of labour, and years of sullen teenage angst for you! She spent her youthful 20's carpooling, counselling and cooking all for you, and she's #3?!

All I can say is yes.

She's #3 because I've been struggling how to describe her. I've thought of this in traffic jams, while waiting 3 minutes before rinsing my conditioner (I'm a sucker for direct directions), while shopping and bowling, working and napping. And I've finally realized I can't tell you how she's shaped me. There was no complicated goodbye, no single phone call that illuminated her influence. The idea of putting words to who she is has been rolling around in my head, leaving me frustrated because I just don't have the right words, because sometimes there is no right words, or best words. There are just the words you have.

She's unlike anyone I've ever met and I'm better for it.

She's the mom who hand painted my sneakers in elementary school so I would have shoes no one else did.
She's the mom who started her own business, and when families can't afford to send their kids, she lets them come for free.
She's the mom who put pomegranates in my lunch while all the other kids had browned apple slices.
She's the woman who (every year) risks getting kicked out of the holiday resort because she sneaks cold cokes to the beach jewellery sellers.
She's the woman who befriended a jewellery seller named Juanita and has taken her family to Wal-mart for shopping sprees, paid for her children's school uniforms and bought them chickens.
She's the mom who remembers my friends birthdays, the name of my grade 3 crush, and the day I started like onions.
She's the mom who showed me how to not be embarrassed of success (or really, really large shoe collections).
She's the mom who still has my paper crown I won as grade two class president, and she's the mom who helped me write the speech that clinched the win.
She's the mom who has had my puke on her. More than once.
She's the mom who took me to gymnastics, horse riding lessons, brownies, figure skating and cooking classes, all in the same year when I decided I wanted to 'learn about everything', and didn't once utter the word 'chauffeur'.
She's the mom who can get me at my own game.
She's the mom who taught me how to check the air in my tires, apply fake eyelashes and "say sorry like you mean it".

She isn't a perfect person, and I'm not either. We've had fights that have made the King of Sparta vs. the Persians look like a lunchtime misunderstanding. But she is mine and I am hers, and though we may violently argue over ideals and ideas, I love her just the same.

She may be #3, but realizing that the one person who told me I could be anything is the one person I want to be like... makes her incomparable.