Thoughts about mother.

Last week, my mother called me.  One of her dental seminars had just ended and she was on her way to dinner with my dad.  She asked me how I was doing and if I was still vomiting.  I told her that I thought the vomiting phase was behind me.  


She told me that the next time I vomited, that I shouldn't brush my teeth right away, but that I should rinse with baking soda and water to first neutralize the acid on my teeth.  One topic of discussion in her seminar was treating bulimic and pregnant patients whose enamel was eroding by frequent vomiting.  


Even though I thought that the vomiting was behind me, I threw up the next day and remembered my mother's advice.  It struck me then how thoughtful my mother had been to call me, even though just the day before I thought her call was very out of the blue.  I imagined her sitting in the seminar hearing the word "pregnant," which immediately made her think of her pregnant daughter.  So as soon as the seminar was over, she called me. 


In my nearly six years of mothering, I've learned that there is more than one right way to be a good mother.  My mother worked full-time as a dentist, which for Mormons, is somewhat unusual and looked down upon by some.  But my mother did motherhood right.  I have always felt very keenly that my mother loved me.  She is a remarkable woman with the warmest smile and a heart that never tires of serving.  I love you, Mom.