I made a new recipe for pot roast last night courtesy of Paula Deen. After chopping mushrooms, onions, carrots and browning the roast on the stove, I could not make it all fit into my slow-cooker. Plan B, dump everything into the searing pan and pop into the oven at 350 for four hours. The whole house smelled savory all afternoon. When I took out the roast there was so much rich, dark liquid (not the usual thick gravy) we went to Plan C - French Dip. My sons had never had it before and I found out that it was my husband's most requested meal as a child. What a lesson in learning to let go of my plans!
My mother is a last-texter. She likes to always have the last text.
"Call you tomorrow Mom."
"Love you Mom."
And this continues until I am laughing and grinning at the fact that she didn't even know how to text a few months ago. Marvelous!
No one warned me when I began blogging that I would wake up at 3 am with post ideas swirling around in my head and be unable to go back to sleep until I got up and scribbled them all down on paper or actually sat down at the computer to write them out. No one warned me either that by getting all these word thoughts out in writing the whole rest of my day would flow more easily and energetically. Fantastic! Side note, I may need to switch to decaf.
People have been asking me how I have the time to do all this blogging. See # 3.
One thing I love about being a mom is the "magnetic mom" property. Have you ever noticed that your children are attracted to your presence all over the house? I can be washing dishes and suddenly have three sons sitting at the island drawing. Then I move to fold laundry upstairs and soon all three are in the hallway playing catch. Then it's back downstairs to check my e-mail and soon they are playing Beyblades right beside the computer desk. It is amazing to think how much they simply enjoy being near their mom and I love it too.
This is the first year my older boys are really interested in watching football with their dad. I am excited because Superbowl Sunday means I can get busy in the kitchen. My husband requested Sloppy Joes and ZJ - the sweet tooth of the family - asked for "Superbowl Sundaes". Done.
This is a lovely little poem to help us celebrate the glorious gift of our own mothers and our mothering.
What It Means To Be A Mother
by Lynn Barnhart
To be a mother is not just
To create life,
But to nurture and shape it.
It is to instill in your child
A sense of absolute security
To envelop your child
In a protective shield of
To be a mother is to have
Within your power to give
An indescribable sense of comfort
That can be found nowhere in the world
But in your eyes, your arms,
And your words.
It is to plant a garden of knowledge
While always weeding out
The external intruders
Of ignorance and prejudice.
It is to be able to look
At your child
At any stage of life
And feel proud of the person
I think I'll go text my mom now!