This article was originally published at Mothering in the Middle.
When I was a child, I remember my mother getting on the floor and playing Barbies with my sister and me. I admired the way she colored in coloring books – outlining the drawing and lightly coloring the inside. I appreciated how she comforted me (and got angry in my defense) numerous times when I came home from elementary school, crying after being bullied.
I miss the way she rubbed my head as I laid on her lap, how she braided my hair at night and how small I felt when she gave me a big bear hug.
As humans, none of us are perfect but there’s something about mothers…