Tag Archives: mom

Things I email my mother

Homework complaints, work schedules, $3 off at Dominos because the pizza guy thought I was cute, time-wasting websites, 4am no-one-is-going-to-come-in-at-work-and-I’m-tired panics, caffeine, and bad dinners…I might live in Connecticut, but still tell my mom about everything.

…In honor of the day (click on the image to read it)

I less-than-three-semicolon-close parentheses-you—always

code: ‚̧ ūüėČ

 

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I am my mother

Minus the clear complexion and cooking capabilities.

Inspired by the infamous CSS paper-return let down (that ugly moment when you realize you didn’t quite pull it off last week), I baked a cake. ¬†Or rather, I went to Wesshop for the 3rd time today, because I was craving chocolate and decided to bake a cake.

Now, you know this project was destined to fail when I bought the mix thinking to myself “I’ve never seen a cake baked in a pan like the one I have, but if you can cook an egg in the microwave, this has gotta work.”

Rest assured, ¬†the young adult demographic is still out there to prove that, just maybe, we could learn something from Heloise’s hints. ¬†(sorry, inside joke for my mother.)

Imagine my excitement when I came home to find that I actually do have cake pans.  This was a significant realization.  I have a couple casserole-like dishes, a spatula, a cooking spoon, and dishes for three.  Notice missing kitchen basics (pots, skillets, etc).

I had all the ingredients too.  I thought I was home free.

But, of course, the moment I put it in the oven, failure started creeping my way again. ¬†I didn’t set the timer again, so, it burned (just a little). ¬†I peeled off the black parts and figured it would be okay.

I felt like such a homemaker when I set the loaves on the edge of my counter by the open window, where the chocolate scent wifted by the students walking home in the street.

Let’s call that the height of my triumph.

After letting it sit for some time (geez at least 20 minutes), I got bored with 20th century family dynamics in Vietnam and put my reading down.  Given that the cake was sitting under a cold window, it had to be ready by now.

The edge of the plates were cold to the touch, but it was still radiating substantial heat in the middle under the plates. ¬†Again, I thought to myself…”It’s cool enough that the frosting won’t melt. ¬†Why else would you actually need to wait until to frost it?”

So, with Heloise scoffing at me in the background, I frosted it (with bad prepackaged frosting no less), and I learned why you wait.

The poor thing crumbles apart if it’s not cool.

oops.

So, in summary, what did I learn?

1) Mom baking when she’s angry is a good habit to mimic.

2) Mom’s patience when she’s baking is also a good habit to mimic.

3) Making chocolate-something, instead of just eating chocolate-something will give me time to cool off, which consequentely leads to a drastically lower calorie intake. ¬†That’s a good thing too ūüėČ


With Love, to Mom

Yesterday, out of no where, I got sick.

And it stunk.

It was just a mild fever, headache, stomachache, and groggy nose, but I have to say all those symptoms are infinitely worse when you are taking care of yourself.  I wanted someone to sit and talk to me even more than I wanted ibuprofen.

So it with that commentary that I dedicate this you, mother. ¬†For every drowsy morning I laid in bed watching mid-90’s TV shows while you made me chocolate chip pancakes, put fresh peaches at the top of the shopping list, and pre-stocked the freezer with smoothie strawberries because the doctor yanked 4 teeth out of my mouth. ¬†Then we’d watch Bones or something.

P.S.

Still not eating much, but doing okay otherwise.  Hope it gets all better I leave for Dallas on Monday, but being totally normal tomorrow so I can prepare to leave on Monday would be even better.