Mama Coyote

By the time you read this, Mom will be under the knife (or at least, under the needle), having a double mastectomy and reconstructive implants as treatment for breast cancer. I kinda wanted to post something just to talk about how awesome she is, so you are encouraged to send her all your positive vibes right now. If you have negative vibes, go eat a sandwich and come back.

Mom is the original manic pixie dream girl in my life. 1/3 Edith Bunker, 1/3 Annie Hall, and 1/3 Punky Brewster. Despite being bubbly-silly-wonderful all the time, she is hands down the toughest member of the family. While she has her neurotic moments (which I've certainly inherited in full force), she has managed to take care of three LaForce nutjobs and special ed preschool children for decades.

When I was in 5th grade, I had one of my sobbing-because-I'm-ugly-and-no-boys-like-me days. My mom sat with me, stroked my permed hair, and proceeded to tell me all the girls in my class that were uglier than me, and why. She knew she needed solid data to convince me. It was the best thing she could do. I felt so much better.

I hope sometime soon you get to hang out with my mom. You can watch a movie with her, and two-thirds of the way through she will remember and inform you that she has in fact seen the movie before. And then she will make you a pancakes with your initials on them. You will share a glass of wine and she will laugh and sympathize with everything you say. Depending on the time of year, you will probably get a holiday-themed preschool teacher song out of her. If you're really lucky, she will play bubblegum 1960s boy-band 45s and hold your hands and dance.

I'll let you know when she's out of surgery. She's probably gonna say some wackadoo stuff. I love this pic of mom in high school with her poodle, Smokey. Note: She's still a babe.