Why You Should Call your Mom, Not Text Her

Being a sophomore in college, I have had to do my laundry by myself for the past year and a half, yet I still call my mom to ask if my black and white striped shirt from Urban Outfitters goes into the lights or the darks. I didn't realize how much I needed my mom in my life until spring semester finals week when I was trudging through the pouring rain at 7:30am to go take my finite final. Needless to say, I fell into a puddle of rain water and took my final with the same puddles in my tennis shoes, socks sopping wet. I called her and cried because A. I was on my way to take a test I was not prepared for, and B. She would know what to do. Being a teacher, my mom has always been a problem solver and ready to act in a moments notice if something went wrong. She may seem like a Debbie Downer sometimes, but in reality she just prepares for the worst, but expects the best.

Thankfully after the finite test was over, I got to go home for summer break.

Here I am again, back at school, still wishing I had my Debbie Downer/preparedness expert to help me out when I procrastinate too long on writing chemistry and biology lab reports that are due on the same day. She is always taking care of me in ways that I don't realize until many years later. For some reason, a story from 7th grade has struck my head recently.

There's 7th grade me, 5'0" and roughly 90 lbs, walking down the halls with my Vera Bradley backpack and new gel pens. Keep in mind this was the age of Lisa Frank, silly bandz, and sparkles. I was walking down the halls wearing my new silver sparkly BOBS I received for Christmas. These were all the rage in middle school, but many people had the "name-brand" version, also known as TOMS. At this age, I had no idea that "off-brands" were seen as weird or not as cool. On this particular day, I decided to give my Wizard of Oz shoes a rest and wear plain tennis shoes. A girl came up to me in the hall and said "Did you get rid of those BOBS yet? Those are super ugly," while she sported the same pair of shoes except the name brand version. That was the first time I experienced how brands mean the world to some people. That day I came home and told my mom about my day and how I was embarrassed about my awesome BOBS she had given me. She didn't say much about it, but I could tell she was mad at the girl who had called me out. Why should a 7th grader worry about brands? I went to school the next day, definitely not wearing my BOBS.

About a week later I came home from a night of volleyball practice, walked into my room, and there on my bed sat a box from TOMS. I was very confused because I didn't normally receive gifts out of the blue. In the box were a brand new pair of silver sparkly TOMS.

Although I never mentioned it to my mom, I've always been so thankful for those TOMS and the lesson she taught me. No matter what age, the little things in life aren't always little. To me, being made fun of for wearing BOBS instead of TOMS was a BIG deal. Basically the end of the world according to a 7th grader. She taught me that the kindest acts are the ones that go unnoticed and aren't spoken about.

Now, I call my mom and tell her about my week. I describe funny moments that happened during my day, and how I tripped in yet another puddle of water in front of the largest learning hall on campus. But I also tell her how a group of people surrounded me and asked if I was okay and if I needed any help.

My mom raised me for 18 years to become the person I am today, and that is something that deserves to be thanked with a phone call, and not a "Good, u?" every two weeks.