Thank You Falettinme Be Mice Elf

"If his nose starts bleeding it could mean that he's picking too much...or not enough."
!CAUTION! The post you are about to read contains personal material and is really freaking long. Cheers.
My mom never reads my blog. In fact she has no idea what a blog is. I still felt the need to immortalize her birthday in my blog though. Hmmm....
Ponderatory Thinkeration--> Does this mean that I am a good daughter or just strapped for material? To find the answer, let us go back, waaaay back... To February 24th, the year is 1955*...
Denise J (Pierson) Davis is born in St. Vincents Hospital and thus forever alters the fate of the world!! Well... not really. Her birth did set in motion the events leading up to the creation of one very important...umm semi-important, well okay, unimportant (I do make a really mean sweet potato casserole, yeah!) person who would not be here today to write this blog if it wasn't for her.
Besides just giving birth to me** my mom has had a huge effect on how I turned out. She has always had her own style and outlook on life and I think that it has helped to make me the "unique" person that I am today. To better illustrate this, I shall give a few examples from our 22 year relationship of why i love my mom. And, of course... I'll make a list.
Example 1: My mom once lovingly told me that the first thought to enter her head as she first laid eyes on me after I came into this world was... "Oh god, I've given birth to a screaming purple snake!" Trying to not hurt my feelings, she quickly added that I got really cute about 15 minutes later. I actually think I would like to have that engraved on my tombstone. "Here lies Caroline, she came into the world as a screaming purple snake." Sweet.
Example 2: When I was a baby it took a long time for my hair to grow in and my mom would always insist that I had hair, it was just really hard to see. She got really pissed off when people would liken me to a cue ball or refer to me as the "cute little bald baby". She didn't mind so much when my uncle David would call me Kojak, she kind of got a kick out of that, but she would fiercely defend my transparent head of hair to anyone who questioned its existence. I learned at a very early age that my mom was somewhat delusional. More importantly though, i learned that she would always be there to defend me.
Example 3: I had a bit of a problem when I was about 3 or 4 years old. I was a serious nose miner and I must have had sensitive nostrils because the excessive digging would cause me to get nose bleeds. Whenever my mom would see me "going for the gold" she would calmly tell me that if I didn't stop it I would get a nose bleed. Time and time again I would not heed her warning and I would end up with a bloody nose. She would never pull that "I told you so" crap though. She would always just sit with me and hold a cold wash rag on my forehead until the bleeding stopped. I eventually got over my finger-in-nose problem once I started going to school and realized that I didn't want to be associated with the freak show kids (you know, the paste eater, the pants peer, the smelly kid, the nose picker). She never tries to make me feel bad about myself, even when I screw up and I will always appreciate that.
Example 4: I have to put this in because its probably one of the things that I am most grateful to my mother for. I will always be thankful that my mom named me after my two grandmothers rather than my two great grandmothers, which i guess was inevitable seeing as how she had already dropped that bomb on my sister "MARGARET LOUISE". Don't get me wrong, my two great grandmas were wonderful women that I wish I could have known, but I am ever so grateful that she chose to name me after my grandmas(Caroline and Gayle, you rock!). I should be really thankful thouhg that I wasn't a boy or I could've ended up as Randall Pierson Davis (I think I would have been a total wanker!). I'm glad I dodged that bullet.
Example 5: My mothers generous nature. When I was in college, many moons ago, my mom would always supply me with houseplants because I feel that plants always make a house feel more like a home and I loved gardening. Sadly, I am not blessed with the same green thumb as my mother. After four years of college and about 25 healthy housplants, its sad for me to say that there were no survivors. And even though she began to refer to the plants she brought on her visits to b-town as "lambs going to the slaughter" she would always bring me replacements for the corpses I created or send me back to school with more victims. I have better luck with outdoor gardens... rain helps if you forget to water.
Example 6: My mom has the most unique religious views of anyone I have ever met. Her Hindumedthodist-Catholic Shamanistic Wicca-Buddhism always helps her have a unique view on any sort of situation, be it death, marriage, money, or the way you treat other people. She has always influenced me to have a very open mind and not harshly judge anyone, although the ritualistic gerbil shavings are a bit odd.
I could go on and on about the ways in which my mom has positively shaped my existence, but I won't. People will stop reading my blog, if they haven't already. Let me just end with this... I want people to know how special my mom is because there are a lot of times when she doesnt feel special at all and there are people who judge her to quickly and dont see all the wisdom she has to offer. I dont know if i answered my ponderatory thinkeration or not. Some may think I plundered my childhood for material... possibly. Others (my sister) may think i'm a brown noser... i do have tendencies. And some people may have already fallen asleep or quit reading this blog around example #3... most definitely (bastards!). Whatever the answer, I do know that I enjoyed writing this blog and if my mom could figure out how to sign on to the internet I might have her read this.
Tune in for the next exciting episode:
"The Never Ending Story" or "The Silence of the Ferns" ...if you dare!!!


*(anyone with a basic knowledge of arithmetic should be able to figure out my mom's age. Its a good thing my mom doesn't read my blog or she would kick my ass.)

**(20 hours of labor, just giving birth? Ha! Again with the ass kicking)