My brother and I often sit and laugh, looking back on our childhood and our [somewhat] untraditional, [somewhat] crazy, [entirely] wonderful mother. We were the only kids who had homemade curries or falafel or crepes in our Disney lunch boxes instead of PB&J or Chef Boyardee. We’d hover over our trays, hoping the other kids wouldn’t see and feel the need to probe for further explanation. I was the only 2 year old girl in rolled up jeans and plaid flannels, what I am currently wearing as I type this at 24 years of age. She wouldn't dream of cutsie dresses and bows. And the first songs I remember learning the words to were not Old McDonald or Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, but those from Paul Simon’s Graceland album – still one of my favorites.
And people wonder why I am the way I am today.
I thought about asking for Mom’s help with this post, thinking she could be a guest blogger of sorts, in honor of Mother’s Day. Really, though, I already know what she would suggest to the masses James’ inner circle - after all, I am my mother’s daughter – and I don’t feel like explaining the technicalities of blogging and youtube to a woman who spends more time talking to me on the phone in order to figure out how to talk to me via webcam than she does actually talking to me via webcam.
So from my mother (and I) to you, here is Ryan Montbleau.
Happy Mother’s Day.
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