Jamie Janosz

I remember one distinct moment when I knew I was no longer just a girl, I was a mama. We were camping in Door County, Wisconsin. Sabrina had invited a friend to stay with us for the week. Uninvited, but equally present, was a horrible stomach virus. First, her friend puked all over the back part of the camper, including all over the cute, little blue shag rug I put between the girl's beds. I pulled it out and suds it out in a hot bucket of soapy water. I called her girlfriend's mom, and (after many rounds of sickness) I fed her saltines and 7-up. This particular bug was hard-hitting and relentless and highly contagious. But I remember first staring long and hard at that smelly, revolting mess and thinking, "Now. I am truly a mother. Only a mom would do this." There was no one else to clean it up. I was it. I was the one who called upon to fix the problem. I was the mama. So I cleaned it up. And then, Sabrina got sick. And then, my husband followed su...

My mom, me, and my sister Julie in our favorite vacation spot, Door County, Wisconsin. It is my mom's birthday today. She is in sunny Florida, and I am in snowy Chicago. But, no matter how many miles may be between us, she is near to my heart. And that is not just a cliche. I have always been adored my mom. Growing up, my mom seemed invincible. She and my dad were both school teachers. I loved to visit her classroom to help decorate or stamp papers or cut out construction paper letters, and watch her bustle around the empty classroom. Her students adored her. She would set up her classroom in such an inviting way that they loved coming to special education class. Some of them would even try to fake a learning disability just to be with Mrs. Storms. She had creative reward systems that motivated them. She cared about each one personally. For many years of her career, she taught at a private school, Glenwood School for Boys. Many of the boys came from difficult backgrounds an...