Or, this is about as mushy as it gets with me
When I’m gone, it would be nice if my children remembered that I was a good person and worked hard and taught them to be fine upstanding citizens.
But what I really want them to remember is that their mother was never afraid of a little glitter glue.
Or mud.
What do you remember about your mother? I will share my favorite memories in tomorrow’s post but in the meantime, you can enjoy her eggroll recipe.
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I don't mind mud and Alex loved it when she was younger. Glitter, however, terrifies me
MUSHY!
But I love it. Every kid needs a Mom who wields a wicked glitter glue . . . gun? Or whatever they're called. I can tell you that my own personal mom's Mother's Day wish is to be taken to a fancy brunch, but she'll have to settle for a glitter-glued card. Made with love.
I have so few memories of my mom before she got sick but the one that stands out is when I was about three and we made pudding together. The real kind, on the stove. I got to stir and because my brother wasn't around I got to lick the bowl all by myself.
I have a glue gun, somewhere, and I can wield it if necessary. I'm not the best with it but I can make do. My coffee table is covered in glitter glue. I call it art.
Just remember glitter is only a shinier, more flaky, less earthy kind of mud and you'll be okay.
Oooh can I take your mom to brunch? Although from what I hear they overcharge for crappy food on Mother's Day because the A-team is out taking their own moms out.
You know what though, this summer I will make everyone put on nice clothes – slacks! and pressed button down shirts! – and we'll all go to one of those fancy brunches with the smoked salmon and the cold asparagus with strawberry dressing.
Oh redhead, I'm sorry your mother got sick. I can't imagine what it's like for children to have to go through that, it's hard enough for grown people.
I remember making that kind of pudding and being repulsed/intrigued by the skin!
My walls are covered with random coffee splashes – I call it avant-garde. It makes a statement about society, I think.
Absolutely. She will be thrilled. Never mind that she doesn't know you — anyone who offers to take her to an expensive brunch will be her new best friend.
Your mother and I have a lot in common. We're classy broads that like a nice
carved steamship round and light jazz quartet. Is that too much to ask?
My mom was funny without really meaning to be. She would just say random/ridiculous stuff without thinking first.
One day we decided to start writing it all down, and I made a website out of it. (It was one of those free GeoCities sites–gone now, though I still have all the quotes.) She yelled at me about it–she thought I was making fun of her (and I was)–but then whenever I made her look at it, she would laugh and brag about how clever she was.
She passed away two years ago, and I'm so happy we have all those quotes. We'll be able to do more than tell our kids “oh, your Grandma was a funny lady”–we'll be able to give them exactly what she said, and when, so they come to that conclusion themselves.
My mom always had an endless supply of what we referred to as “collage materials,” which she was willing to haul up from the basement and let us spread all over the table.
She also made Playdough from scratch, which she let us choose the colors for and knead while it was still warm.
Most of all, my mom seemed to never grow weary of listening to me yammer on. I'm sure she *did* grow weary of it, but she also did a great job of making me feel like the best storyteller and child commentator around.
(Hey! I have missed you and your blog! I'm not sure where I've been, but it's been a while.)
I have a lovely set of hand prints on my wall. They trail down all the way to the floor. I'd paint over it but they actually look kinda cool. At least that is what I tell myself every time I walk by them. The dog slobber on the wall is another thing entirely.
I like your level of mushy. I'd hug you, but I'd rather punch you in the arm. To show you how much I like you.
Nancy – I love that story about your mom. And what wonderful foresight you had to save her sayings.
Mine is an artist and she used to gather up all the neighborhood kids and teach us how to see color and how to paint.
Nancy, I love that, too. That's one of the reasons I've been posting my mom's recipes on my blog so that they will be preserved.
I'm sorry that you lost your mother so young.
Hi KT! I bet you've been as busy as I've been. These are the whirlwind years, I think.
IT made me smile when you said your mom made playdough from scratch because I do, too. The other day I told my 4 year old we had to go and get some more cream of tartar to make more dough and it cracked me up every time he said “Tar-Tar”
I bet you carry on the tradition of listening with your own girls.
See, I knew you were my kind of people.
That sounds really cool. I do love to let my kids experiment with art supplies, but I'm afraid my actual ability is limited so I look for any opportunity to have them learn from people that know more than I do.
This is so awesome, one of the local art museums is having an open studio on their free days all summer and kids & their parents can come in and use all sorts of cool supplies and just go crazy.
I would love to have your mom living on my street!
My mom was funny without really meaning to be. She would just say random/ridiculous stuff without thinking first.
One day we decided to start writing it all down, and I made a website out of it. (It was one of those free GeoCities sites–gone now, though I still have all the quotes.) She yelled at me about it–she thought I was making fun of her (and I was)–but then whenever I made her look at it, she would laugh and brag about how clever she was.
She passed away two years ago, and I'm so happy we have all those quotes. We'll be able to do more than tell our kids “oh, your Grandma was a funny lady”–we'll be able to give them exactly what she said, and when, so they come to that conclusion themselves.
My mom always had an endless supply of what we referred to as “collage materials,” which she was willing to haul up from the basement and let us spread all over the table.
She also made Playdough from scratch, which she let us choose the colors for and knead while it was still warm.
Most of all, my mom seemed to never grow weary of listening to me yammer on. I'm sure she *did* grow weary of it, but she also did a great job of making me feel like the best storyteller and child commentator around.
(Hey! I have missed you and your blog! I'm not sure where I've been, but it's been a while.)
I have a lovely set of hand prints on my wall. They trail down all the way to the floor. I'd paint over it but they actually look kinda cool. At least that is what I tell myself every time I walk by them. The dog slobber on the wall is another thing entirely.
I like your level of mushy. I'd hug you, but I'd rather punch you in the arm. To show you how much I like you.
Nancy – I love that story about your mom. And what wonderful foresight you had to save her sayings.
Mine is an artist and she used to gather up all the neighborhood kids and teach us how to see color and how to paint.
Nancy, I love that, too. That's one of the reasons I've been posting my mom's recipes on my blog so that they will be preserved.
I'm sorry that you lost your mother so young.
Hi KT! I bet you've been as busy as I've been. These are the whirlwind years, I think.
IT made me smile when you said your mom made playdough from scratch because I do, too. The other day I told my 4 year old we had to go and get some more cream of tartar to make more dough and it cracked me up every time he said “Tar-Tar”
I bet you carry on the tradition of listening with your own girls.
See, I knew you were my kind of people.
That sounds really cool. I do love to let my kids experiment with art supplies, but I'm afraid my actual ability is limited so I look for any opportunity to have them learn from people that know more than I do.
This is so awesome, one of the local art museums is having an open studio on their free days all summer and kids & their parents can come in and use all sorts of cool supplies and just go crazy.
I would love to have your mom living on my street!
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