I've said it before, and I'll say it again - she's my rock star.

The day was April 29, 2008.

It was the day Kaylee was born, but it was also the day I saw my mom in a whole new light.

She was there with me all day as I labored through contractions and walked up and down the halls in the labor and delivery unit.

With Dennis on one side and my mom on the other, I managed to endure about 8 hours of labor without my much-anticipated epidural.

When I was in the hospital bed and could tell I was about to get hit by a ginormous contraction, I'd close my eyes and just squeeze my mom's hand like there was no tomorrow. And it got me through, every time.

A lot of the details are fuzzy, but her and Dennis were like a tag team that day, taking turns rubbing my back and letting me squeeze their hands through the pain.

Dennis never left my side - he was rubbing my back pretty much the whole time.

But the face I remember seeing the most when I think back to that day is the face of my mom.

I remember her staying calm when I freaked out and I can still just picture her looking at me, and I could tell that if there was any way for her to take the pain from me, she would have. In a heartbeat.

I remember the look of excitement on her face when she first showed up at the hospital and I was still in the triage unit - it was like her face was telling me, "The day is finally here! We get to meet Kaylee - finally, and today I'll be a grandma! Woo hoo! Let's DO this thing!"

I'm so glad my mom was there with me that day. I needed her. I needed her right there beside me, holding my hand, reassuring me, and being there for me to lean on.

When all was said and done, and Kaylee had safely entered the world, that's when I realized my mom was more than just a mom.

I realized my mom is a rock star.

She managed to bring me into this world without any pain medication. I had my frickin' awesome epidural and didn't feel a thing once it kicked in. The contractions were unbearable at the end (hence, the epidural), but I don't even want to know what actually pushing the kid OUT would have felt like without drugs.

I realized that I put my mom through a heck of a lot the day I was born, and that was just the beginning.

She's always been there for me, through everything - stupid mistakes, stupid boys, zits, smart ass remarks, shopping for bras, leaving home for college, planning a wedding, getting married, being there for me the day Kaylee was born - and now - being there for me on my good and bad days as I do my best to be a rock star for my own daughter.

She's my mom, and she's my rock star, and I'm so, so lucky to have her.

Love you, mamacita. :)

*This post is a part of Writer's Workshop, hosted by the hilarious Mama Kat from Mama Kat's Losin' It.

My mom, the rock star.

26 years ago today, my mom was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Not many people are inducted into the Hall of Fame on the very first day they become a rock star, but my mom was.

Let me back up a bit...

On the day Kaylee was born, at some point after I got my friggin' awesome epidural (Dr. K - I still love you!), I remember telling my mom she was a rock star for getting me into this world without any pain medication.

Seriously. She is.

I also told her I needed to call all the women in my family who birthed children without pain meds (some of them multiple children) - because they were all rock stars.

It was my birthday today. I got the lunch and dinner out at 2 restaurants of my choosing. I got the cake, the cannoli, the cheesecake, the presents and all the attention, but really, we should have had a party for my mom.

All I did that day was pop out and then poop and pee all over everything while I screamed my head off. Seriously - why should that deserve a party? She did all the hard work.

You're my rock star, Mom. I love you. Much more than chocolate, even. Of course. ;)

Your Sera B.

This post is a part of Tuesday's Tribute over at 7 Clown Circus.

My Tribute to Dr. K

Ahhhh, the unforgettable Dr. K. The man I will remember the rest of my life with a fondness that cannot be put into words.

My lifesaver.

My deliverer.

My hero.

Approximately 8.5 months ago this amazing and wonderful doctor waltzed into my labor room wearing shorts, tennis shoes and a button up shirt. My husband about knocked him through the wall, thinking some strange man busted in during a rather inopportune, not to mention private time.

But then, he realized that I would knock him through a wall if he so much as laid a hand on this fabulous man that I had been waiting for and dreaming about for 9 long months.

I remember Dr. K telling me it would be about 10 minutes before I felt any relief from this magic thing they call an epidural.

He lied.

The relief was instant.

I wholeheartedly uttered the words, "I love you."

He replied rather matter-of-factly... "Yeah, I get that a lot."

I bet you do, you freakin' awesome stinkin' doctor!

Thank you for responding to my request for drugs in 15 minutes or less. You are a very, very smart man, and I assure you that I will never, ever forget you. E-V-E-R.


Head on over to Jay's and Deb's blogs for more Tuesday's Tribute posts from other bloggers.