This weekend is Mother's Day, where basically every mom in the US who is a day-to-day afterthought to her offspring [mine included], becomes queen-for-a-day...and is lavished with handmade gifts, orchid corsages and dinner out at a restaurant where you can color on the placemats. I was reflecting this morning on Peggy Lou, my dear mom, and my thoughts went to Christmas, a loooong time ago when I was probably 5 or 6 years old. Our family was not well-to-do, not homeless by any means, but certainly there was no money for non-essentials. Somewhere along the lines I had snagged a Barbie, which for that day would have been tantamount to the American Girl phenomenon of today. 
I still have my Barbie's, so I went down to the basement...dug through some dusty boxes and pulled out 3 Barbie wardrobe cases. I thought this would be a lovely stroll down memory lane, but what I didn't realize was how ashamed I was going to feel when I began looking through everything again...in particular, the Barbie clothes that my mom had knitted for my dolls. She couldn't afford to purchase the actual "Barbie" trademarked clothes, so she and my grandmother and my aunt made outfits for my Barbie dolls. 
Not just any outfits, but meticulously crafted little tiny works of art. I'm crying now even as I write this at how ungrateful I remember being that Christmas when I opened up the box. Homemade Barbie clothes. I was so disappointed. I wanted 'real' Barbie clothes...the store bought kind. I can only hope that I didn't voice my displeasure, but, being that I was such a fussy, precocious, hot-tempered little child...and knowing my mom, she probably intuitively sensed my dissatisfaction. Honestly, I don't know how in the world my mother knit these pieces. The workmanship is exquisite and she must have used toothpicks as needles. The intricacy involved and the time it must have taken...and the love of a mother giving the best she could to her thankless daughter is about more than I can bear.
Not just any outfits, but meticulously crafted little tiny works of art. I'm crying now even as I write this at how ungrateful I remember being that Christmas when I opened up the box. Homemade Barbie clothes. I was so disappointed. I wanted 'real' Barbie clothes...the store bought kind. I can only hope that I didn't voice my displeasure, but, being that I was such a fussy, precocious, hot-tempered little child...and knowing my mom, she probably intuitively sensed my dissatisfaction. Honestly, I don't know how in the world my mother knit these pieces. The workmanship is exquisite and she must have used toothpicks as needles. The intricacy involved and the time it must have taken...and the love of a mother giving the best she could to her thankless daughter is about more than I can bear.So...this Mother's Day, although I have sent the obligatory wrist corsage to Peggy Lou, I will also be sitting down, pen to paper, and letting her know that I may not have appreciated it then, but I sure as H, E, double toothpicks am moved to tears by it now.
Thanks mom for loving such as me, as always, your misbehaving daughter
