My Mother essays

My Mother essays The first thing that comes to mind when I think of my mother is her ability to reason. For as long as I can remember, my brother and I have fought. Im not talking about physically fighting, although weve had our share of those, im talking about the he stole my toy, or more recently, Its my turn to take the car out. When a situation like this arises, she is the first to step in and sort matters out. It seems like she always finds a compromise in the mess of arguing. My mother spent the first fourteen years of my life at home taking care of me and my younger brother. A typical house wife, she could cook and clean and pretty much do anything that needed to be done around the house. I was finally old enough to stay at home by myself when this stage of her life was complete. She then started taking night classes at S.I.U.E. to learn how to become a teacher. She has had a place in her heart for secondary education for as long as I can remember. Maybe it was due to the fact that she had spent the last 14 years of her life with me and my brother...maybe not. None the less, she was finally doing something to quench her passion. The teaching certificate came in the mail shortly after she earned her bachelors degree in special education. I was under the impression that teaching would take away her time from me. I was used to her being there when I came home after school to make me a snack, or talk about how my day went the instant I walked through the door. My hypothesis was of course wrong. With me playing basketball until later on in the day, and her staying busy at the middle school, we just had to spend time with each other later on in the day. This was really no problem to anyone though. Since I have moved to Carbondale, things have been a little different. We dont get to see each other every day, but we still stay in touch quite often. Th...