Oh, Mom

Some time ago, I was approached by a brother in church who informed me he knew my mom from working in the family history center. I smiled. "Family history? She's on top of that, isn't she?"

He hesitated. "She has a little trouble with the computers..."

I couldn't help but laugh. I could see in his eyes what all of her children have gone through, bless her.



My sister-in-law just found out she'll have to undergo surgery to get a lump removed. She called my mom to explain the details of the surgery. Afterward, my mom began to describe what will happen.

"So they'll take the whatever out and check it for you know, then with the other side...they'll take both sides out but in the other room they'll, you know, with whatever, then get the stuff out."

Luckily, my dad had spoken with my brother and got the same details so I wasn't confused for long.

passive aggression.

mom: "and when i came out of the grocery store, that jerk next to me had left his shopping cart right next to my door so i couldn't get in!"
me: "did you knock on his car window to ask him to move it?"
mom: "i rolled the shopping cart right past his car and when i got back to my car, i looked at him like this (imagine funniest mean grimace mom face ever). i told him, i sure did."

if only i could have captured that mean mom face. i'm sure it takes years of practice with at least 6 rotten kids.

Eh?

Gdeb: So I told her duh-duduh-duduh and I asked Laura and she said the same thing so I said blah blah blah and then that was it.
Me: I have no idea what you're talking about.

How am I supposed to Kinect with you??

Today Lizzie asked GDeb, "Grandma, you still don't have an xbox?"

Puzzle wrapped in an enigma.

She moved into a new place and it's wonderful.  However, I have had mucho responsibility in the unpacking/decorating/fixing it up department.  As in, I have done all of it.  She was proud to say she hung up a calendar by herself.  Pat pat on the back for that one.

Today MR and I went over to hang a series of pictures of each of her kids.  We laid out the photographs on the floor in about 5 different layouts, each time asking her what she thought.  She would say, "U-mmm, I don't know, try it a different way."  So we'd try it a different way, then go back to the first way and she would proclaim, "Oh, that's nice!  What do we think of that?"  Mom, it's the same as before.  "Oh, it is?  Oh."

So we finally picked the layout that was best and I started hanging them on the wall.  MR was in charge of Lizzie, so Mom was in charge of holding the laser level against the wall while I measured, nailed, measured, nailed, took out nails, remeasured, etc.  We call for MR to come into the room to help with something really quick and Mom says, "Hurry up, I'm getting tired!"  Yeah, that little level is pretty heavy.

And speaking of little levels, she has a level that could fit in your shirt pocket.  In fact, it has a clip to attach to your pocket.  What possible good can this tiny level do?  I know not.

trials in preparing family-friendly dessert

The red blob represents the Jell-O Belt, the region of the world where
Jell-O (TM) is incorporated into more desserts, salads, and
baby formulas than in any other location on Earth

My dad suffers from the dietary restriction of gluten intolerance. There are many everyday staples he cannot eat (ie bread, pasta, pastries) but dairy is on his "good" list. On birthdays he foregos cake and instead gets calory-crazy via the supplemental berries, creams, and ice creams.

at 7:52 last evening:
"Mom, what kind of ice cream did you get to go with the birthday cake?"
"There's brownie fudge or cookies and cream"
"So... two ice creams that contain gluten...?"

Luckily for her the prepare-for-your-own-dietary-needs card might trump the forgetful-mom card in this instance. Nonfat nonflavored yogurt consumed by dad from his secret stash is no less celebratory. Ok maybe a little.

there are internets to remember that for you

Diane: "I'd rather get dementia than Alzheimer's."
Wikipedia: Alzheimer's is the most common form of dementia

So we can't choose which degenerative illnesses our bodies will generate, but as I see my mother age I continue to encourage her physical, intellectual and social development just as I assume was her intent when she did things like write loving notes to me on napkins and place them in my Teddy Ruxpin lunchbox throughout my elementary and middle school years. While I made sure any cool kids did not catch a glimpse of the embarrassing reminder that I came from a loving family, I was also appreciative and was thus always torn between the functional and emotional purposes of these scraps of paper. To wipe my mouth and fingers, thus rendering the notes unpreservable? Or save them as tokens of her affection, sacrificing cleanliness?

These internal debates were some of my first real-life applicable examples of neuroeconomics. Thank you mom, and I encourage you to not wish upon yourself any loss of cognitive ability at all.