My Mom is like the weather; always changing, uncontrollable.
Sometimes you love it, sometimes you hate it.
Mainly storms, rarely rainbows.
Sometimes warm and comfy, sometimes hot and sweaty.
But at the end of the day, you learn to love the weather.
Like, if it's hot you wish it were cold, or if it's cold, you wish it were hot. But at the end of the day, you have weather regardless, and you learn to love it.
And that's how I feel about Mom.