My lovely mother finally decided she couldn’t stand it anymore, and drove halfway across the country by herself to see her newest grandson (who is my darling almost-four-month-old baby). Now, after five very chatty, shopping-filled days, she’s going back home. And I miss her already.
My kids now have new toys, lots of new pajamas, and more socks than they’ll ever wear. I have new pajamas, new socks, and new underwear. (Yes, I’m still her baby, and she feels the need to buy me socks and underwear.) Even my SO has new underwear, and new DVDs, and new cologne. (Can’t leave him out, and Mom’s fair in her shopping sprees. Odd, though, picking out underwear for my guy with Mom’s opinion and credit card.)
I now have two very spoiled little boys here, one of whom thinks he’s going to be held every single minute of the day, and the other of whom thinks he’s going to get away with whatever he wants. (And thanks, Mom, for letting my toddler drink your Coke. That caffeine makes it so much easier to get him to sleep at night. :rolleyes: ) But hey, that’s what Grandmas are for, to spoil the kids silly and make Mom’s life difficult.
She also told my SO every embarrassing story about me. She told him about how fat I was as a kid, about the time I barfed all over my new Christmas dress, about the times I got kicked out of high school for wearing too-short miniskirts, about the time I forgot I couldn’t swim and jumped into the lake and my dad had to jump in to rescue me… My SO is still snickering, I’ll bet. And I’ll never hear the end of it.
I only get to see her about once a year, and the last visit, she took us out to eat every day. So this time, I cooked for her. She hates to cook, so she rarely has a homemade meal now that she lives alone. She told me she’d forgotten what a good cook I am. What a nice compliment, coming from the lady who cooked my meals for years. She loves my tuna salad, and my fried pork chops, and she said she hadn’t had a grilled cheese sandwich for years.
I got to introduce Mom to her very first Philly cheesesteak, which she loved (although she was sure she’d hate it, because she doesn’t like cheese. Whatever, Mom. 
) One day, she complained that her friends never wanted to go out for pizza, so we ordered pizza that night. And I paid for it, because for once in my adult life, I’m not dead broke.
Mom has helped me out so much, and she’s always been my best friend. We didn’t shut up for five days, and we often finish each other’s sentences. It felt so good to cook for her (or pay for dinner), and watch my boys snuggle up to her the way I used to. It felt so good to have my Mommy telling me that I should get this better underwear, instead of that cheap stuff, and this certain brand of socks will hold up better. I’ve had five days of motherly nurturing, and everybody needs that occasionally. It’s refreshing. I’m so used to being the mom, taking care of everyone, and it’s delightful when someone wants to take care of me.
Mom just rocks. She’s the best. Go hug your mom, if you can.
