First, let me clear this up. I did not pee myself. I can only recall two times in my life when I peed myself at an age when it was downright mortifying to do so. Once, when I was six or seven, and once when I was, well, a little bit older. This title is in reference to one of the two crazy-ass dreams I had last night. I won't bore you with a rundown of my dream (Seriously, I HATE it when people make me suffer through that shit). I did, however, write about it over here, if you're interested in reading about it. Just so you know, I don't talk about my dreams like others do. I keep it short, succinct, and to the point, so if you do choose to read about it, it shouldn't be too painful.
At any rate, today is Mother's Day. I am not a mother. This should already be obvious to you. Childlessness aside, it is impossible for anyone to not be aware that today is Mother's Day. The world won't let you. Bloggers blog about it. Facebookians post about it. This morning I woke up (what? 11:30am is still the morning. Technically), logged onto Facebook and was immediately attacked by a barrage of Happy Mother's Days. Aside from the status updates, it seems every mother on my friends list decided to individually wish every mother on their friends list a Happy Mother's Day. My "Most Recent" News Feed reported a count of 500+. Really folks? Was that necessary? In protest, I wished no one a Happy Mother's Day. Not through Facebook any way.
So, I suppose, in honor of this day, I'm obligated to tell a tale about my mother. Or at least show you her picture, which I know she would hate because she is one of the least photogenic people in the entire world. Alright, here goes, let's see what I can dig up...
Here's my mom at Christmas in 2008 with my one of my nephews and my sister's legs. My mom used to make these really yummy cheesecake cookies every year at Christmas time. She still makes them for me. I can't eat them. You know, because of my egg allergy. My mom forgets this every year. Occasionally I eat one or two to make her feel good. I'm sure this doesn't help with her tendency to forget about my allergy.
Here's my mom grilling at my going away party/stepfather's birthday party in 2009. That's my nephew again. He's wearing his mommy's shoes. He's a character. Here's a pic of the cake my mom bought me for the occasion...
Yup! That's a cheesecake folks! Guess who couldn't eat it? That's a pretty accurate drawing of my mom and step-dad. They raise chickens. My mom didn't draw it though. Her artistic talents lie more in the sewing spectrum.
Here's a pic of my mom at Christmas in 2009. That's me holding one of my nephews. Yes, my mom wears Christmas sweaters. She also wears nature sweatshirts. I don't recall there being any cheesecake cookies at the festivities that year. However, that was the year I planned Christmas dinner and my sister was in charge of the desserts, so that might have had something to do with it.
Here's anther pic of my mom, holding my nephew. I had made a trip back home to attend the wake of the mother of one of my close friends from high school. In honor of me surfacing from the thesis-writing pit I had sunk into, my mom bought me a special dessert. Yup! You guessed it! Cheesecake! Not only that, it was one of those fancy variety pack cheesecakes. It looked really yummy. I think my sis really enjoyed it.
So, in conclusion, I wish all the mom's out there a Happy Mother's Day. I should probably go call mine. I sent her a card already, but I'm pretty sure in her eyes that isn't a sufficient enough gesture. Maybe I should make her a cheesecake*...
*For the record, my mom tries really hard to accommodate all of our likes and dislikes. Unfortunately, I think she stopped keeping track in 1989**. In her mind, my oldest sister still likes the color purple and unicorns, my twin is still obsessed with lions and roses, my younger sis still likes... well, I'm afraid I'm not sure what she ever liked. And I still eat cheesecake and collect teddy bears. Thanks any ways, Mom!
**I'm exaggerating, of course. But you already knew that, right? Oh! And it's sunflowers. My younger sister loved sunflowers. For your entertainment, here's a pic of all of us back in the day. 1989 would probably be an accurate guess based on the clothes and the fact that my oldest sister hadn't ventured into the big-hair, crazy-perm, poufy-bangs stage of the early 90's yet.
(I'm in the cool rainbow striped top in the center. Missing from this pic is my brother. Yes, I have one. And my youngest sis. She wasn't born yet. And she doesn't belong to my mom's family any ways. She belongs to my dad's. Although my mom has unofficially adopted her as a part of her family. But that's a tale for another day.)