ode to my motha

this is my darling mother. i have the best mother a boy could ask for. i cannot say that i know how a girl feels, having completed the requirements for an academic degree from a major university, with hopes, the potential, and social pressure to fulfill an exciting career, when the opportunity for motherhood is presented. however, i do know this: all a child wants is a mother who loves her job as caretaker and teacher; a mother who loves her children more than herself. if a girl can do that, they have all the respect, love, concern, and support her child can give.
I am reminded of a story my mother read to me in my childhood. i do not recall the title of the story, but it was about a little baby bunny. the bunny's parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles and family friends all had grand ideas of what the little bunny would end up being when he grew up. such occupations as firefighter, lion tamer, police officer, teacher, farmer were conjectured. but the little bunny did not want to be any of those. he wanted to be a daddy bunny. he wanted to play tag and chase his bunny children around. he wanted to tuck them in at night and tell them great bunny stories. he wanted to be their daddy bunny, and to be the best daddy bunny.
well, i know my mother could have been a very successful career woman. but she wanted to be my mom. i love her for it. she made a warm breakfast each morning before school. even when we had seminary at 6:30 in the morning, i could count on something good to eat. she always packed me a nutritious lunch. she encouraged me to be attentive, to pick things up. she encouraged me to be a gentleman. she taught me manners. she sang me songs and scratched my back before i went to sleep. she cut up my waffles for me (contrary to popular belief, she stopped well before i was 18. in fact, it was probably until i was 11). she let me turn her couch into a horse, apache helicopter, space ship, tank, etc. she encouraged me to read good books. she made me the best cookies in the world almost every other day. she was my cubscout master. she was my chauffeur to cello lessons into LA once a week. she was my soccer mom. she taught me to sing and love music. she taught me to love vocabulary. she taught me to write papers well and to be terse. she loves to snorkel. she loves to knit. she loves to garden. she taught me to love the savior and his gospel. she helped me prepare to serve a full time mission.
the list goes on. i love my mother.