Every once in a while I stop myself in the middle of whatever I’m doing and realize I’m gradually morphing into my mom. No, unfortunately it’s not the selfless, Christ-like qualities I’m beginning to emit more and more of. It’s more the things like cutting my own hair (even the back) and reading random street signs as I’m driving down the street. Or the way we both feel amazingly calm and relaxed while lying in the sun slathered with baby oil, (it’s like therapy). Or how we could both eat newborn babies whole. Or the way we both love to travel, and want to soak up good books. Or the fact we both aimed for 10 kids. She got nine, I got my five. (Fortunately she’s the one who got the closest because we all know who could have handled ten better.) I say things like “whizzbang” and “newfangled” and “mad-as-a-hornet.” I laugh until I bawl…tears streaming down my cheeks, especially when I’m tired. I get things stuck in my teeth. Oh, and I love chocolate.Yep, I’ve got all those things down. They’re in the genes. No effort in that. Now I need to start working on being like her on the really good stuff. Like how she always puts others first..always willing to let everyone else do something fun while she stays behind to babysit or clean or cook or pull weeds. She’s one of the most selfless people I know. Or like how she will put flowers and a bowl of nuts or chocolate in your room when you go stay at her house and she doesn’t complain when she has a house full of people wrecking havoc. She’s the best hostess I’ve ever met. Or like how she tears up when she reads the scriptures and how she reads the Book of Mormon every single year for her annual BofM challenge. Or like how she makes people feel as if they’re the most important person in the world even when she’s got a million other things whirling on around her. Or how even though she had nine kids, she always made each of us feel like we were important and we meant the world to her. There’s no one on earth I’d rather try to emulate. I love my mom.