There are 1,251 words in the English language that have a total of only three letters and, due to the timing of this story, there is no doubt which is the most important.

Mom.

Now I know some will make a case for the all-powerful, the all-knowing, the never wrong entity, but Dad will just have to wait until next month for his day. Today we are writing about Mom. Without Mom, nothing is possible – at least that was the way it was a long, long time ago growing up on that old familiar street not so far away called Flamingo.

Unappreciated.

As a kid, I didn’t really appreciate our mom. How could I? I was a normal kid who was more interested in playing with neighborhood kids, fighting with my three brothers, and picking on The Sister than thinking deeply about Mom. Besides, Mom was Mom. She made sure we had food to eat, there were clean clothes to wear, and our house was never too dirty. Somehow our bathrooms got cleaned and we lay down on clean sheets to start each week. We got to school on time and got to our events afterwards with a healthy snack along the way. All these important things, and so many more, were handled by the overworked, unappreciated person we all called Mom.   

Mom hugs.

Some of my fondest memories of childhood were of Mom’s hugs. They were magical and made everything better. She comforted us when we needed it the most, whether due to physical or other pains. Mom cleaned way too many of our boo boos and ouches to even count – ending each medical intervention the same way: a hug, a kiss, and asking, “Now, doesn’t that feel better?” Mom hugs always made things better.

Mom punishment.

We four boys were always doing something wrong, and I should know. I was there in the middle of it most of the time. With Dad always off at work, it was left up to Mom to deal with whatever we had done. She scolded us when needed and dealt out her form of punishment, but she never paddled us. That was left for Dad. She always cried after one of us were paddled, and I never understood why. We were the ones feeling the pain – not her. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Now I understand.

For the last year as a kindergarten paraprofessional, I’ve been so fortunate to have worked side by side with an amazing lady. Each morning, kindness and love flows out of her and wraps around the Littles in our room, like a soft, warm blanket of comfort and understanding. Her room is always clean and organized for the kids every morning. Like us back on Flamingo, the kids have no idea how much work has been put in to making everything ready for the day of learning. She treats the kids as if they were her own: correcting them when needed, administering first aid in the form of Band-Aids, and yes, giving out hugs. Not just any hugs – Mom hugs. 

A never-ending day.

Exhausted from a full day of teaching, she closes her classroom door for the last time late in the afternoon and walks down the hall with her oldest, a third grader. They climb into the car and start on the way to the preschool to pick up her youngest. After a full day of work that demands and drains everything, the day for her is only half over. Now she’ll enjoy being a mom to her own two boys and a wife to her husband. Her day will end long after dinner has been cooked, dishes have been cleared and washed, and her two littles are tucked into beds. Where she finds the energy, I have no idea. After school is out, I just want to fall into a recliner and take a nap.

I’m so thankful, and humbled, to work in a place where over fifty others repeat this same routine in classrooms throughout the school every day. Moms doing what they do best: being compassionate, giving lessons, and helping kids grow to be the very best they can be. And yes, giving a mom hug when needed.

A long, long time ago, I had a mom. She was loving and kind and gave the best hugs. On this Mother’s Day give your mom an extra-long hug. Growing up Back on Flamingo I never realized what I do now. 

Mom needs hugs too.