"Laurie -- Aus -- Stephen. . ."

I find myself saying things that mom used to say.

When I'm exasperated at Elliot, I say, "Aaron, Isaa -- Elliot!" (There were times you would have thought my name was "Laurie -- Aus -- Stephen!")

When the boys complain that they don't know how to clean their room, I say, "Find something that's out of place, and put it away. Then find the next thing that's out of place and put it away." And I demonstrate while I'm saying it. And then I remember that that's how mom used to do it.

When I'm ironing, I call out, "Who took my spray bottle!?"

I come home through the garage every night, and I see all my art supplies and unused furnature. And I say, "I'm not going to throw those things away, because, even though I'm not using them now, I hope that some day I'll be able to.

When Elliot's practicing the piano, and I'm in the kitchen, I call out, "Sharp!" Actually, I don't know that I've done that yet, but I'm looking forward to the right moment.

The other night I was driving home from work, late in the evening, and I heard myself think, "Stephen, there's just not enough time in the day."

I also find that I have skills that I never really learned formally; but when I ask myself where I learned it, I realize it was from watching mom: cutting hair, baking roast and potatos, listening to audio books while washing dishes (multitasking in general), ironing; the list goes on. But I have yet to brush my teeth in the car.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. You're wonderful. Thanks for passing down your wisdom, skills, talents, and love.

Love, Stephen