Happy Birthday, Foxy Roxy

I’m not sure exactly when it happened.

I’m not sure exactly how it happened.

All I know is that it happened and I thank God every day it did.

We became allies.

I dropped the Step in Mom and she dropped the Step in Daughter.  

We became two women, on the same side, who have inside jokes and share real hugs, instead of a strong willed woman and a strong willed kid, fighting on opposite sides of just about everything.

She became my lifeline.

She became my best friend.

I became the endearingly imperfect mother to her perfect grandchildren.

She became the perfect grandmother to my endearingly imperfect kids.

I figured out she only wanted the best for me. That she only wanted the best for everyone.  

I started listening to her with open ears and learned I wanted to be more like her than I had ever realized.

She became my hero.

We’re different in more than a million ways.

She’s organized. She follows a routine. She never leaves the house without make-up. She’s always well put together. She always has a plan. Her sponges never stink and her toilets never have rings.

I’m a hot mess all of the time. And so is my house.

She loves me anyway.

We’re the same in more ways than we ever really knew.

We love people intensely. We forgive quickly. We’d each be the first to kick your ass if you mess with someone we love.

There is a full family of people with different last names and mis-matched DNA that would all be lost with out her.

She’s the rock that holds it all together.

She’s Super Mom.

She’s Super Grandma.

She’s Roxy.

And today is her birthday.

I’m sure glad you were born, Roxy and that you didn’t run for the hills when you figured out my Dad had a two year old. 

I love you.

Happy Birthday.