My mom rocks. I am grateful for her.
First off, she’s beautiful. And did I mention she’s had eleven kids? For real. But that’s not everything.
If one can even believe it, I was a brat as a teenager. A gigantic, snotty brat. I know right? Shocking. And unfortunately the snootiness was mostly directed toward my mother. I don’t know how she managed not to beat the crap out of me because I surely deserved it. But as I grew older and began to realize that the world does not indeed revolve around me I started to get it. My mom is the best!
She is a great friend. She knows when to listen and when to give advice. She is a fabulous grandmother. She literally will drop everything to help me with my girls, even if she had just been watching them the entire day before. I try my best not to abuse this because I know she will not say no. Ever.
Refuge. My parents’ home is always open to my family. And we are there often, enjoying the yard, the toys, the company. It’s a place where I feel safe and I’m grateful I feel so comfortable coming and going as I please.
My mom’s garden. Because my own home is severely lacking in outdoor space I become giddy at the thought of fresh tomatoes from her garden every summer. Combined with the fact that my knowledge in cultivating is also severely lacking, I am doubly grateful.
Grow baby, grow!
This dude. I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to gush over him in such a public fashion so I’ll just say I really only like him for his looks.
This cake. Made from the skilled hands of my mother. It contains parsnips, apples, carrots and zucchini, as well as lots of other yummy ingredients. You’d think it tastes veggie-ish but noooo, it’s so moist and delicious. And did I mention the frosting is apple cider cinnamon cream cheese? Yeah, it’s as fantastic as it sounds. I’d share the recipe but alas I have it not. Another day folks.
And of course…
Yes I’m grateful for Miss M too but I have taken about 9,000 pictures of her in the past week or so and quite frankly she is dunzo. But hey, guess what? Binky is gone for good. I held true to my word. Instead she has taken to other measures for comforting. Such as emptying every.single. article of clothing out of her and her sister’s drawers, smearing toothpaste on the mirror, slathering herself, her hair and the chair in her room in lotion, making 36.5 wardrobe changes, dumping out the water bottles or sitting in the toilet. No not ON the toilet. IN the toilet. Yes, inside the stupid toilet or as Diva shouted, “Mommy! She’s sitting criss-cross applesauce in the toilet!” All this after we have put them to bed for the night.
But sure, I’m grateful.