mama's day + a declaration of love to my own mama.

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here's a secret: sometimes, especially after i have eaten more than i should and the pooch is out to play, i like to pretend i'm pregnant. no, but seriously. i'll hold my stomach and look down i'll lovingly and give a little sigh as if to say, i just can't wait to meet you in five short months, my little macaroon. it's kind of disgusting and horrifying and, while i'm here, this is my a public declaration to never refer to my child as a french-cookie (that kind of suck, don't you think? the hype around those things! head-scratchingly successful! they are like the baked goods version of  matthew mcconaughey!)(though he was mildly decent in lincoln lawyer, i'm told). 

shoot, where was i going with this?

oh! yes! yesterday i didn't even have to employ my master plan of having a pregnancy scare to swindle a meal or five out of jeff stapleton. no, jeff stapleton was on it! i woke up to breakfast in bed (...also head-scratchingly successful...it's so uncomfortable. syrup flying everywhere, juice toppling over; i'm not coordinated enough for that jazz). 

eggs 'cause i have eggs to be specific. and i really don't know if there was some hidden message behind the banana? mayhaps?

and now for some pictures of me. bra-less. you are welcome. 

 

i felt like such a mama's day imposter. but then i was like, what the heck! although i am not a mama, i am well-equipped for it with my wide-set hips, evil-eye, and lady-parts, of course.

because that's all you need to be a mama, right? ;)

when i think about motherhood, i feel seriously overwhelmed. i can hardly keep track of myself, how am i supposed to keep track of another person?! there is so much a need to do and learn! how to do calm a baby down and how to put them to sleep and my boobs are going to do what (?!) and how much is it goign to hurt and diapers cost how much?!? 

good. hell. 

but then i think about my mama. oh, i seriously hope everyone has a kim mosman in her life. now that i've gotten older, i've realized how totally i took her for granted. all those years of lunches made to my exact order and homework drop-offs and homecooked meals and laundry folder and put away! but mostly, i think i took her unwavering friendship and support for granted.

i grew up knowing that my mom was kick-a but i also, sort of believed that everyone else's moms were almost as cool. that everyone else's mother would rather poke their eyeballs out then miss a sporting event. that everyone else's mother would help rub self-tanner on the parts that they couldn't reach (ha!). that everyone else's mother knew the exact and precise remedy for a bad day and would show up right when they needed them...like in supply closets at school!* 

mom, you are my nearest and dearest friend. you have made motherhood look so fun and i feel anxious, like a dog on a leash at a dog park (hashtag brooke attempts a metaphor...errr, simile), to join in. eventually. like, not any time soon-soon but soon. i am so thankful for your example to me and your support and love through all of my awkward stages and fleeting interests. you are the best.

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*no seriously. this happened. i was senior class president (...drops mic...) and was stressed out over planning a silly dance that i didn't even want to go to. the principal wasn't understanding me and my vision (i was such a douche) and i was so annoyed. so, so annoyed. oh the drama! oh the tragedy! i walked to the downstairs bathroom of my high school to maybe have my first at-school cry. it was so ceremonious! how do i even start it?! right as i was about to turn on the water works, my mom walks out of the supply closet! ha! she was grabbing some things or something? i'm just going to hold firm to my belief that she is three parts wizard. i hid in their for a period and let out a few deep sighs. and that's my story. 

promises for a daughter || happy birthday, mom!

this may sound silly, but i always tell jeff that my one wish in life is to have a daughter. and maybe a garden. and also a lightening-fast metabolism? but mostly a daughter.

i make little promises to the high heavens, too. they're bargains, almost.

promises like, 'i promise if you will give me a daughter, i will teach her that what really matters, what's really beautiful, is what's on the inside...but i will also have the dignity to share with her the powers of an under-wire bra, the importance of eyebrow maintenance  and the magic in m.a.c. makeup (and danger in the wrong shade of foundation + liquid eyeliner) at the appropriate times.'

promises like, 'i promise if you will give me a daughter, i will do my very best in shaping her to be a kind and gentle young lady and will protect her from all that's stinky and scary in the world for as long as humanly possible...but i will also let her get her heart broken if she must (and will give him-who-breaks-her-heart death glares into the eternities) and watch her make a few mistakes and bad haircuts.'

promises like, 'i promise if you give me a daughter, i will always, always be there for her-- i will be there at her mind-numbingly boring sixth grade graduation, at her middle-school choir concert where she mouths the words all-too-obviously, and perched on her bedside with chocolate chip pancakes and a good pep talk in tow when she is in one of her inevitable 'napping seven hours a day is normal, mom!' slumps that generally mean something more.'

promises like, 'i promise if you will give me a daughter, i will be her very best friend and sneak her out of school just to guzzle down 32 oz. of diet coke goodness and split appetizers at the over-priced peruvian restaurant a few times...but i will also be her mother and will lecture her till my voice is hoarse if i have to.'

but mostly, promises like 'i promise if you will give me a daughter and beat out the curse (i mean blessing!) of the all-boy-stapleton-streak, i will try and be half the mom that my mom was to me.'

happy birthday mom, you truly are the most wonderful creature. 

(p.s. yes, she was the cheerleading captain! her pep talks are extra peppy and usually end in 'GO LAKE OSWEGO LAKERS!')

(...and no,  i'm not pregnant. or trying. i'm like, thirteen years old, people!)

chopsticks and head-scratching.

background: this weekend jeff’s (that’s his name! curse of the j’s!) parentals are in town and yesterday he wanted me to meet them. HOLY NERVOUS! i started to have a minor (MAJOR!) panic attack and consulted my mother for help. i asked her what i should wear and what i should say and should i use my real name? or make up a new one? do i shake hands? hug? how long is too long of a hug? friend pat? back scratch? should i just kiss them on the mouth? i texted her in ALL CAPITALS to get on facebook chat where she coached me up and told me to maybe, probably not kiss them. ever.

i looked back on the conversation this morning and realized that my mom evidently has loads and loads of faith in my meet-the-parents skills……and for the record (mom!), it went swimmingly… and i only scratched my head with chopsticks once when the attention was off of me, at least i’m almost sure.

recipe.

whenever i visit home or get in a ten foot radius of my mother, i balloon up like a beluga whale because she force feeds me all her delicious goodies and treats. my most favorite treat that my tastebuds miss daily is her lemon drop cookies.

in order to relieve my current craving, i had her make some and take pictures of the process…the pictures didn’t suffice in the least but i thought that i would share the recipe with you guys! 

ingredients:

2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups butter flavored shortening
3 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 teaspoon lemon extract
4 cups flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
finely chopped zest of one lemon (i don’t always add this)
1 (6-oz) package lemon drops (i usually add more!)
glaze:
2 cups powdered sugar
juice of two lemons, about 4-5 tablespoons

*preheat oven to 350

1. in mixing bowl, cream sugar, shortening and, eggs; add vanilla and lemon extract and stir in flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.

2. crush lemon drops in a blender or food processor (or put them in a heavy ziploc bag and therapeutically pound them with a meat mallet while thinking of all things angry in the world).

3. add lemon zest and crushed lemon drops into mixture and roll mixture into balls.

4. flatten slightly with your hand and bake on a parchment lined cookie sheet for 10-12 minutes and let cool on pan for a few minutes.

5. make lemon glaze by mixing powdered sugar with lemon juice to desired consistency. brush glaze over cookie tops after cookies have cooled slightly (if cookies are too hot, the glaze will melt).

…then eat (or gorge, rather), and fall into a deep, deep case of food guilt (…the remedy for food guilt: more lemon drop cookies!).