Family Fun magazine has such great ideas that I almost want to get a subscription. Except, when I get magazine subscriptions I never read them because I can find what I want to find a lot easier by getting on the internet. So I get a build up of barely ever read magazine that I feel guilty recycling.
So even though I love, love, love some of the ideas in Family Fun, I probably won't be subscribing.
Now that I've covered the topic of magazine subscription, I'll move on.
S'more Solar Ovens. Yes, you heard me. Family Fun crafted a way to make a solar oven out of a pizza box, some aluminum foil, and s'more fixins.
The truth is, I probably won't be making this today because I live in WY and spring weather doesn't like to cooperate for fun crafts like this. But once June settles in, you can bet your biscuits I'll be trying this fun science/food activity with my kids!
If you want to try, please CLICK HERE to go to the Family Fun website for instructions.
Of Monsters and Men is an Icelandic Indie folk/pop band. Honestly, in terms of bands, this is a baby band that is meeting pretty huge success.
The first time I heard their song Little Talks I was convinced that Florence and the Machine had teamed up with Mumford and Sons to create some serious aweseomeness. I was wrong about the singers but not about the awesomeness.
Spring fashion is majoring in BOLD colors. Alone this looks like bright yellow jeans paired with navy striped tops and hot pink jewelry. But one new trend is to put these bold colors together a la 1960s.
Called "COLOR BLOCKS" these combos are shocking yet chic.
You must go to this article and read through the signs. There are a ton of them. If you need a laugh then trust me, this is TOTALLY worth it! Some are naughty. Some use cuss words. Some are offensive. Some are dead on accurate. You decided which is which.
Today I'm linking up with A Holy Experience and celebrating moms while making a difference for mothers in Haiti. Please check out 1000 Moms Project and join us! And please click here to see other submissions.
Dear Mom,
This is my first Mother's Day without you.
How surreal this all seems. Even though I'm a momma now, it's funny how Mother's Day doesn't feel the same without you--without my mom. I've spent years making this day about you and now, now what do I do?
When I allow myself to really sit long and feel my feelings, I feel so alone. I've wanted to call you so many times. To tell you how I messed up so bad and to get your comforting words and advice. To share the funny things Pax says and to brag about what a good reader M.E. is and how kind she is to her friends at school.
Ballet recitals. New cars. Orange fingernail polish.
So many times I catch myself thinking, "My mom would love this" or "I wish my mom was here."
I feel so alone. A motherless daughter.
Mother's Day is just another reminder that I won't be calling you and I won't send you a card.
I am motherless.
The taste of those words on my lips is bitter gall. I want this grief to end. I keep expecting it to get easier but it just gets. more. real.
I am motherless.
Though it hurts and breaks, I refuse to be defeated by this truth. If I am to move forward, I can only do so holding firm to the truth that all things work together for my good--even this pain and grief.
This Mother's Day I just wanted to say thank you for mothering me.
Thank you for the sleepless nights you spent feeding me, rocking me, waiting up for me, and fighting for me.
Thank you for giving me the grace to try on different personas so I could figure out who I am and who I am not (and let's breathe a collective sigh of relief I am not orange-haired, rebellious Reagan).
Thank you for making our house a home so homey all my friends wanted to be there.
Thank you for letting me make mistakes and feel the consequences of those mistakes.
Thank you for NEVER seeing me as the sum total of my mistakes. Your faith in me was often my strength.
Thank you for insisting I call my elders Mr./Mrs./Ms.
Thank you for being there--when I needed to talk, when I needed space, when I needed to vent, when I needed to cry, when I needed a hug, when I needed nothing--thank you for being there.
Thank you for squeezing my hand as you took your last breath--for that last bit of reassurance that everything was going to be okay ... even me.
On Sunday morning, those sweet children will bound into my room with breakfast and a plan to head to the hills. The will shower me with sticky mouth kisses and jam hand hugs and gifts they made out of stuff they found. I will smile and delight in the ways they bless me. In this way, I hope you are blessed. I am the mom and wife and woman I am because of who you were.
This is a hard time because I never know what to get for my kids' teachers. On the one hand, I think--a drawing, a card, a batch of cookies ... you can never go wrong with homemade. But on the other hand, after being a teacher, I know there are only so many homemade cookies I can eat and still fit into the classroom. And while those drawings are so amazing, most end up in the garbage because I get about 18 a day.
Oh, and a note on school supplies. Yes, teachers need school supplies but giving teachers crayons as a "gift" is sort of like being given a new broom on Mother's Day. Seriously, celebrate the the teacher as a PERSON not as a profession. Still give those crayons but do it on some random Tuesday in the middle of November.
Need some ideas? I navigated through all the hideous Pinterest Spam and found the best of the best of teacher appreciation gifts.
Picture this: A home made, PURPOSEFUL gift.
No gift cards. No craft supplies. A gift. For the teacher. That the teacher can use.
Still need some ideas? Lucky for you I've found some :)
How about a re-useable summer cup/straw with a fun saying, like "Thanks for quenching my thirst for knowledge"
I kind of want someone to make this summer relaxation tote bag for me! "All year you made learning fun, now you can relax in the sun!" Fill with sunglasses, sunscreen, flipflops, magazines, etc.
The Lumineers have been likened to Mumford and Sons and The Avett Brothers and indeed, if you love those bands then the soulful and raw sounds of The Lumineers will steal your heart.
The Dead Sea
Stubborn Love
Ho Hey (This is the song that's currently putting The Lumineers on the map)
My sister sent me a text last night saying something to the effect of, "I'm already dreading tomorrow."
Tomorrow? Why tomorrow? Of course I knew. Of course it had been nagging at me and I responded to the pain the way I generally do--by ignoring it until it couldn't be ignored.
May 2. Mom's 61st birthday. It's here.
I got angry. Always, I get angry. Mad she turned 60 and died. Mad 60 was a waste. Mad I won't see her blow out those 61 candles. Mad I don't freaking have a mom. Mad! But if counseling has taught me anything, then it has taught me anger is a surface feeling--a feeling that keeps us from feeling other feelings.
I stood in the shower long and hot and pondered what do I really feel? Under the hurt and anger--what do I feel? I feel ashamed for wasting time with her--for not saying "I love you" enough. I feel disappointed my children will never know her how I knew her. I feel scared I'll die of the same disease. I feel a profound sense of orphaness.
These last few months I just haven't been the same. I've been bogged down in the bad. Letting her death and my dad's cancer, and the every day grind eat away at my joy and hope. I see other daughters complaining about their mothers and I want to grab their shoulders and scream at them to just shut up and love their moms because one day--despite the over-sharing of advice and the giving grandkids too much candy and toys, and the petty fights over whose house they'll go to for Christmas--their moms will be gone and they will wish deep in their soul for just one more moment.
Now I'm not going to go all motivational speaker on you. I'm not going to tell you to live in the moment and seize the day and make it all count. I'm not. And if I did, you wouldn't listen anyway because life--poopy diapers, whopping piles of laundry, runny noses, and chores--gets in the way of enjoying life.
But what I am going to do--for my sake and not yours--is to remember on these bad days what made the good days so damn good. I read 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp (and if you haven't then I really think you should) and she talks about how all Biblical miracles were preceded by thanks, by gratitude, by the naming of blessing. So today, I'm not going to wish I had seized the day. I'm not going to wallow in "what I could have done" or "should have done." I'm going to get out of my pity-party by naming 61 memories of my mom. Memories are, perhaps, the sweetest blessings.
In no particular order:
One time at the grocery store I snuck an economy sized jar of grape jelly into the grocery cart. When we got home, my mom told me that jelly was all I would eat on sandwiches until it was gone. To this day, I hate grape jelly.
My mom called me one time on December 23 to tell me about this sweater Matt just had to have. The store was sold out so she, over the dissent of the store clerks, stripped the mannequin of the display sweater and demanded it be sold to her. I don't even know if Matt still has that sweater.
My mom and I painted ironing-board sized Santas together.
My mom called my cat Nanners.
She loved Cherry Garcia ice cream (I think I'll have some today--in celebration of her).
She owned a Subway and would make Cheez-Wiz sandwiches.
She never did learn the lyrics to The Grundy County Auction (hey pretty lady won't you give me a sign I do anything to make you mine) despite attempts to teach her.
When I was a kid, she'd give me 50 cents to go to 7-11 to get a slurpee.
My mom took me to get my black lab, Cubby.
Once my mom took me swimming at the YMCA. All of a sudden she pulled me out of the water and we sped home. I was mad we had to leave. Turns out, there was a tornado spotted about 3 blocks away.
She had expensive taste in jewelry. I'm certain this is genetic.
She spent her summers on a farm in Trehern, Manitoba.
She became a U.S. citizen on August 22, 2010. She moved to the states in 1969.
My mom taught me about percentages by taking me shopping and out to eat. To this day, no one can figure out a tip faster than I can.
She made the best corn bread.
She loved pigs.
My mom named me after her best friend, Heather Joy.
Although she generally followed rules, she loved to speed. She never got a ticket.
I get my cleaning OCD tendencies from her.
When I was in junior high, my mom would paint my fingernails with amazing designs. My fave was the time she painted my nails to look like tuxedos.
I wore her senior prom dress to my junior prom because class never goes out of style.
Her face when I tried on wedding dresses.
Her face when she saw me in THE wedding dress.
Those 15 minute lectures that lasted an hour.
I used to love jamming to Karma Chameleon with her.
In 2002 I got heat stroke and stayed in bed for days. She read Anne of Green Gables to me.
Her smile.
The deep, throaty "oooooo" sound she made when she scratched animals on their chin.
No one will make chicken marsala the way she did.
The woman was terrified of spiders---but I got her to hold a tarantula and smile.
Going on the roller coaster on New York New York in Vegas.
Giggling at my dad as he danced to rap music on a pirate cruise in CanCun.
Feeding the ducks at Disneyland.
The time she caught me trying to light a cigarette butt.
The fights we had about not being a pack-rat (I outgrew this phase).
The way she used to brush "Kitty" for hours.
Whenever my checkbook was off, I knew she could find the error and fix it.
She loved to go to Baskin Robbins where she'd get a scoop of Jamocha Almond Fudge and a scoop of Kaluha and Cream (and when that flavor was gone, Pralines and Cream).
Once it took her an hour--literally--to eat 2 scoops of ice cream.
It was awkward but she went with me to buy my wedding night and honeymoon boudoir.
When I got back from my honeymoon, she asked if the sex went well. Again, awkward!
She never could figure out how to cut and paste and I used to get so frustrated trying to teach her. But hey, my father in law isn't sure you are supposed to type in the address bar so I guess she was more advanced then I give her credit for.
She could remember the sandwich orders of at least 50 regular customers.
Although she was a business owner, her businesses all included service. She treated her customers with kindness and respect even when they treated her with condescension and disdain.
There was never a chocolate the woman didn't like. Especially if it was a Reisen.
I used to freak her out by rubbing velvet on her. The feel of velvet gave her the heebie jeebies. I still don't get it.
She did not like heights.
Even though she pretended to think it was inappropriate trash, secretly my mom loved 90210 and Melrose Place.
My mom forced me to cut my hair when she didn't think I was taking good care of it. I don't have the right face for a pixie cut. My bone structure is all wrong. I've forgiven her.
My mom tried to convince my sister to name her child Eaton Klindt. She never got why this was both totally inappropriate and hilarious.
She bought a Volvo XC90 because I told her they were awesome. I was right.
When I got my first period she didn't have much sympathy. She was like, "here's a tampon, let's go." I'm so glad she didn't let me lay around and mope about the whole thing. It's natural--why act like it's not?
Telling her I needed a bra was horribly embarrassing (not to mention a total lie).
When I was in labor and getting wheeled back for an emergency c-section I saw her crying. I was irritated because it was about me, not her. But now that I'm a mom, I get it.
On the Christmas we insisted she go to the Mayo Clinic we had a massive family fight. The sons-in-laws and kids took refuge in the basement. This is just the way we solved problems--loud voices, passionate debate, anger, and a plan.
My mom did not get gray hair. Can I get an Amen?
I remember the poem I wrote telling my parents I was pregnant. And I remember my mom calling to make sure she understood the poem correctly.
I love to sing in the car. I can't hold a tune. I got both of these qualities from my mom.
There has never been anyone who could more effectively cover a mall with speed and accuracy and without need for food, drink, bathrooms, or a break. To say she was a professional shopper is quite an understatement.
She never knew that I knew but when I had my first child, she came in to watch me "sleep." She just stood in the doorway and watched me--the way I watch my babies.
My senior year my dad was traveling. I came downstairs for breakfast. We had chocolate cherry cake and vanilla ice cream. Best. Breakfast. Ever.
What I think is counting blessings--counting memories can't erase the pain but it can bring peace. That in and of itself is a miracle. Peace in the storm.
See that comment section? Why don't you share a memory/blessing of your mom?
Thanks, Shell for letting me Pour My Heart Out on your blog.
What a perfect way to end my FML week. Yep, an F kind of week.
Whether you like it or not, florals will be big on the scene this season. Yes, this is true of tulips popping up all over. But it is also true of fashion.
So grab a floral top or bag or dress and embrace this feminine, "looks like a couch from the 70s" fashion.
I'm a fan of young adult literature. I like to tell people this is due to the fact that I teach young adults. Really, I just like how profound and lovely young adult literature can be (without takings itself to seriously).
Think about it. How many of the most recent literature phenomenons have been geared toward young adults? Harry Potter. Twilight. The Hunger Games.
I've never read Harry Potter {Gasp} and I have no intentions to do so.
I read and liked Twilight although I think Bella is whiny, helpless, and sets the feminist movement back to B.C. times.
I loved, loved The Hunger Games but even though I found Katniss to be a strong, caring lead, I didn't totally love her character. She was harsh and cold and didn't have an ounce of humor in her.
Right after I read The Hunger Games I read The Great and Terrible Beauty series by Libba Bray. Ever since, I've been wanting to read them again. The books are Victorian Gothic/paranormal which sounds odd but let me tell you, it's compelling. You aren't quite sure what you are gonna get.
And the lead. Oh the lead. Gemma Doyle is a great mix of Bella and Katniss. She is brave, strong headed, and selfless like Katniss. She is silly and dramatic like Bella. But unlike both, Gemma seems really ... real. She struggles with life--with thoughts of not being enough, with girl drama, with boy drama, with family drama but through it all, she is hilarious. She thinks these sarcastic thoughts and is utterly delightful.
Anyhow, if you are looking for a new series to dive into, I'd suggest The Gemma Doyle Trilogy (I've suggested this to friends. 2 loved it, 1 thought it was so-so. Although I will say one of the gals loved Gemma so much she contemplated naming her daughter after her ...).
This photo does not belong to me. I stole it from Wikipedia but don't read Wikipedia and ruin the book!
P.S. Although I TOTALLY think this should be a movie, and IMBD thinks it might become one in 2015, right now, it's looking doubtful. Rats.
I did it all for the nookie, c'mon The nookie, c'mon So you can take that cookie And stick it up your yeah! Stick it up your yeah! Stick it up your yeah! Stick it up your
Anyone remember this dreadful Limp Bizkit song? Seriously. Blech.
BUT, I will say this, I'm a fan of the Nookie Light.
What's this, you ask? Let me tell you.
Well, let me tell you a hypothetical. Husband wants a little lovin. Wife has had enough kids loving on her and wants to sleep. She says, "not tonight dear." Dear gets upset and says, "You never initiate sex. You never seem to desire me." Wife rolls over and consents to begrudgingly have sex but neither partner wants it now.
You see, some couples fight about sex. Between headaches and long days and kids and Aunt Flo and unmatched libidos, some couples just can't quite get it together, sexually speaking. And so fights about sex are common.
The Nookie Light is one of many solutions. Essentially, you put a light (or candle) in your bedroom. When one partner is feeling it, s/he lights/turns on the light/candle. This is a way of indicating BOTH interest and a willingness to make a move. Now, if the other partner is interested (or at least willing), s/he leaves the light on. If the other partner is NOT interested, s/he turns the light off/blows out the candle.
In the event the Nookie Light gets turned OFF, there are two rules that CANNOT be broken: 1. There is no questioning WHY the light was turned off. 2. Whoever turned the light off commits to turning the light ON within the next week.
The whole point of the nookie light is to help couples who fight about sex communicate desire and interest without actually communicating (because even when it is said in love, "not tonight" sounds pretty harsh.). Now, is one partner sometimes still getting a "no?" Yeah, sometimes. But "seeing" no and "hearing" no sometimes cause two different reactions. PLUS, the "no" comes with a promise to pursue in a week so there's a silver lining in the disappointment.
What I think is Nookie Lights will never be a substitute for open communication but if you and your partner need a little help communicating, then I'm all for the Nookie Light!
Thanks, Shell for letting me Pour My Heart Out on your blog.
A couple of years ago at MOPs, a group of little kindergardeners came in and performed their version of the ABCs. Rather than just doing the traditional song, the kids recited a verse for each letter they learned of the alphabet.
I was blown away. Here were little 5 year olds with more verses memorized than I know! Momentarily I was convinced I needed to send my children to the school that these kids went to. But then I remembered that educating my children in the way of the Lord is MY part of my commission.
So, I did some internet searching on ABC verses and found some of my favorites and here is a list I came up with.
A
All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Romans 3:23
B
Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10
C
Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Matt.11:28
D
Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. Ps:37:4
E
Encourage one another, while it is still Today. Heb. 3:13
F
"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
G
"God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble." Psalm 46:1
H
"Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away." Matt.24:35
I
"I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except thru Me." John 14:6
J
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today and forever. Hebrews 13:8
K
"Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. 1 Cor. 8:1
L
"Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." Deuteronomy 6:5
M
"Make music in your heart to the Lord...always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ." Ephesians 5:19
N
"No eye has seen, nor ear heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him." 1 Cor 2:9
O
O, God, you are my God: early will I seek you, for my soul thirsts for you. --- Psalm 63:1
P
"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27
Q
Quench not the spirit; … hold fast what is good. --- 1 Thessalonians 5:19-21
R
"Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him." Psalm 37:7
S
"Surely, I am with you always." Matthew 28:20
T
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not to your own understanding in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your path straight." Proverbs 3:5-6
U
Understanding is a fountain of life to those who have it. Proverbs 16:22
V
Verily, verily, I say to you, He that believes in me has everlasting life. --- John 6:47
W
"Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." Psalm 27:14
X
eXcept a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.John 3:3
Y
Your love, O LORD, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies. Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your justice like the great deep. Psalm 36:5-6
Z
"....Zion, do not let your hands hang limp. The Lord, your God, is with you, he is mighty to save." Zephaniah 3:16, 17
Iknow that my children might not totally understand what they are memorizing (I feel this way about multiplication tables), but one day they will and these verses of hope, love, and encouragement will be burned on their hearts.
I found this recipe at The Frugally Rich Life a year and a half ago.
I tried it once and fell in love.
Then I decided to tweak it--a bit.
Okay, all I did was substitute natural, unsweetened applesauce for the oil. Wa La! Sugar free (well, except for the chocolate chips), oil free, healthy pumpki chocolate chip muffins.
1 egg
1/2 c. honey
1/2 c. pureed pumpkin (fresh or canned)
1/2 c. milk (any percent but skim is best)
1/4 c. natural, unsweetened applesauce (or oil)
1 1/2 c. whole wheat flour (use white if you must)
2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. salt
1 t cinnamon
1 c. dark chocolate chips (or semi-sweet)
Stir together first five, wet ingredients. Add in next five dry ingredients. Stir until just mixed. Put in greased muffin tins. Bake 375 for 18 minutes.
Makes 12 regular sized muffins OR 36 mini-muffins.
FYI--You can fill the tins pretty full since these do not rise much.
"but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" (Isaiah 40:31).
I once learned that in Hebrew poetry, the last statement was generally the most important, the most relevant, the most consistent, the most powerful.
Isn't that true here?
I mean some days I feel like I am soaring.
Some days I feel like I can run without tiring.
But most days I feel like a success if I just persevere through the day.
Do you ever feel like this?
It makes me feel kind of guilty--like where is my joy in the Lord?
You have to watch the following clip because I think it obliterates the lies of this world about success and pride all the while sharing in a tremendously relevant way, why The Walking is the most important part of our lives.
Did you get a bit teary-eyed?
I love sports films--Rudy, Sea Biscuit, Hoosiers, Invincible--because they are so inspirational. And this clip is no exception.
I watched it and thought--this is what a relationship with God is like. This is it!
The runner wasn't guaranteed worldly success (a gold medal) because he had a father--and neither are we.
The runner didn't avoid pain because he had a father--and neither will we.
Even in his father's presence, there was pain, agony, shame, despair, disappointment, brokenness, and humility--and so there will be for us as well.
On the bright side, the runner's father was there. He was watching. They couldn't keep him away in his son's time of need. Just like God.
The father would have loved his son if he quit. And God will love us if we quit, too.
The father walked with the son when the son wouldn't quit. And God will walk with us, too.
The runner didn't get traditional worldly glory.
There was no gold waiting at the finish line.
There would be no Nike commercials featuring his face.
Though he finished to a standing ovation, the only thing that really waited for him was a stretcher, a time of painful healing, and a lifetime of "what ifs."
Now, however, who can remember the name of the gold medalist? Was God not given more glory by persistently finishing the race in pain than winning a medal?
Sometimes we are under the perception that a relationship with God makes life easy. That with Him there is wealth, health, and happiness.
But look at this truth. Sometimes we will soar. Sometimes we will run without tiring. Most of the time we will walk.
We will walk through pain.
We will walk through brokeness.
We will walk through lonliness.
We will walk through shame.
We will walk through guilt.
We will walk through blame.
We will walk through feelings of inadequacies.
We will walk through anger.
We will walk through doubt.
In the end it isn't about whether the race was short or long, easy or difficult. It's about whether we finish. And it doesn't matter if we finish soaring, running, walking, or carried in the arms of Our Father. It matters that we finish.
Tactile play is an amazing way to help your children explore and learn. In this day of play, take 1/4 box of spaghetti noodles and cook them according to directions. Drain and **cool** them.
Put the cooled noodles in a big bowl and let your kids squish around in them.
For Younger Children:
This is perfectly acceptable for little ones but you will need to watch for noodle pieces heading toward the mouth.
For Older Kids:
Give each child their own bowl. Have them wash their hands. Add pasta sauce and an art smock. Presto! Lunch you can play with!
If you came here this morning expecting yet another post introducing you to some awesome band you've never heard of, I'm sorry. I'll return to my regular scheduled posts next week.
Right now I'm having an FML time of life. You know what that means, I presume. That means last week: I put my cat of 17 years to sleep and found out my dad's cancer is back. Not exactly the best time of life right now.
So anyhow, enjoy some old music posts.
Avett Brothers
So first up, I and Love and You. A classic. I love it. Makes me happy.
Band of Horses
The Epilogues
Hunting Season
Barring any deals, hideous diseases, car accidents, or natural disasters, I'll be back next week.
Last week we had a cold spell (in Wyoming? Shocking ...) so I decided to whip up a batch of veggie chili and cornbread.
Here is where the story gets long. See my mom used to make this killer cornbread. It was sweet and cake-like and incredibly moist. I had the recipe--flour, cornmeal, eggs, oil, sour cream, honey (did I mention it was delicious and that almost always means UNHEALTHY?).
Unfortunately about 5 years ago I decided that Krustez cornbread mix was every bit as good as my mom's recipe (one of the few times I've been wrong) and so much easier. Let's face it, it takes a long time to measure a cup of flour. Or maybe I'm just lazy.
Anyhow, lately I've just gotten really cheap healthy so I wanted to make more stuff from scratch and less stuff from a box. Flash forward to the chilly day and veggie chili in need of cornbread.
I go to the recipe box and look under "breads and muffins." It's not there. It wasn't under appetizers, beef, poultry, fish, brunch, soups, salads ... it was no where. The recipe is gone. Gone as in I looked at every recipe in my recipe box for an hour gone. Gone.
I was a bit choked up but I put on my big girl panties, googled a recipe, and whipped up a batch of cornbread. As I stirred the mixture together it happened. Big, fat crocodile tears started running down my face and into my cornbread ingredients.
Because it was my mom's recipe.
Because it was written in her handwriting.
Because I can't ask her to write it down for me again.
It was this hideous reminder--days before Easter--that she is gone and that I'll never taste her cornbread again.
What I think is that sometimes something as small as a missing recipe makes her death real again. It shocks me like a bucket of ice water over my head--drenching my strength, leaving me gulping for air, and fighting back tears. As I stood there crying in my cornbread, I was reminded that grief is a long process.
I miss my mom's cornbread but really, I just miss my mom.
Thanks, Shell for letting me Pour My Heart Out (into my cornbread) on your blog.
