My gorgeous mama, holly and my little guy on “Green Day” an imaginary holiday she planned for him.
So my mama and I have this totally crazy, really special, absolutely maddening-mother-daughter-best friend relationship where she takes care of me and thinks of me basically every moment of her life, and when I try to do the same she’s all like “that’s not how you do it.” 
It drives me totally insane, but deep down, the truth is that I know she’s right like 96% of the time. I don’t know how to do it.
But that’s kind of how it’s supposed to be, right? Mamas make sure we leave for college knowing how to wash laundry, and make beds, and then we get married and they make sure we look our absolute most gorgeous, plus make sure we have hand-calligraphied invitations that they spend hours and hours and hours on (did I mention my mama is an award-winning artist and Martha Stewart Magazine featured calligrapher? no? oh…)
When we have children they dredge up all the tips and tricks and memories of how to care for babies from when we were children, and EVEN if pediatricians have changed their minds like ZILLIONS of times about what is right, or healthy, or appropriate since we were little, our mamas somehow STILL know how to do it better than we do.
Or, at least, my mama does.
…
