Mother’s Day

Geography prevents me from being with my very favorite moms, so today I am paying tribute to them in blog form. Which is basically the highest honor anyone, anywhere can receive. Right?

My mom is awesome. Despite the tremendous hardships she’s endured, she’s never lost her spirit, her sense of humor, or her crazy ability to love unconditionally. I may look just like my dad, but I am all Kim Turner. From our love of thrift stores, coffee, and books and story telling and sentimentality to being highly emotional and a little hard to handle–but always quick to admit it–at times.

Mom, a few days before she had my brother Shayne. #dathair
Mom, a few days before she had my brother Shayne. #dathair

She’s a protector. She’s a provider. She’s a shoulder to cry on. She’s a baby whisperer. She’s the best cook I know. She’s the dispenser of very sage advice that I never listened to. She’s my number one fan. After 30 years, her don’t fuck with me mom tone still makes me wince. She’s been the one to clean up after me, take care of me, and stay up with me to make sure I’m alive on the two occasions that I’ve been black out drunk, and she still loves me. She takes care of my fur children that I couldn’t take with me to Sydney. When I was having a really hard time with life in early 2007, she left a bag with a card and a small treat hanging from my bedroom door every day for almost a month. She’s one of my most favorite people in this universe.

Mom, about 27 years after I was born.
Mom, about 27 years after I was born.

I’m pretty lucky to have been born with a built-in second mom, my sister Mary. And now she’s a real mom! I’m beyond sad that I can’t be there while Henry grows up, but seeing my sister fulfilled and full of love for her little creature makes me so happy. I know, without a doubt, that Henry will grow up as probably the most loved child in this world.

Mary getting Henry's nursery together about a month before he was born.
Mary getting Henry’s nursery together about a month before he was born.

My sister Mary is about two and a half years older than me, and she’s always been there for me. I don’t know if I can depend on anyone the way I can depend on Mary. She would literally give me the shirt off her back. We’re fundamentally different, the way sisters can be, but we would still walk through fire for each other. From playing Barbies to coaching each other at horse shows to calling each other at 2 AM when we’re upset, we’ve grown up together and seen each other through it all. As she puts it, “You saw my hoo-ha in the delivery room. You’ve sat beside me while I nursed Henry. There’s literally nothing left that’s TMI for us.” Beyond scarring me for life, it’s absolutely true.

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My little big sister

So Happy Mother’s Day to the two women I miss more than I miss air conditioning. They have seen me at my rock bottom lows, and they’ve been with me to celebrate my most ecstatic highs. They drive me crazy, but I don’t know what I would do without them. I most definitely can’t wait to have lunch and walk around Target with you two again. xoxo

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