Just the Facts #11

 “What is a mom but the sunshine of our days and the north star of our nights.” (Robert Brault)

Hello, my lovely friends!

    Welcome to another Friday Funday! This week, our focus is on my mom. With her birthday having been on Tuesday, it feels like the perfect time to dedicate this post to her, especially after featuring my dad a couple of times.

 

1. She saved my life, truly. I was maybe six or seven, visiting a neighbor's cabin with a pool. I'd been taking swimming lessons in a pool that was only three feet deep, and we didn't realize this one was marked at three and a half feet. I stepped down the stairs and immediately went under, the panic overwhelming me. My mom, still dressed, dove straight in and pulled me to safety. I was trembling afterwards, but I was okay.

 

2. Before I reached junior high, my mom was a stay-at-home mom, and her special touch was evident in every classroom party. She was the go-to cake artist, always creating and decorating the most incredible cakes. I remember one year, I was home sick on the day the class chose party contributions. That afternoon, my teacher called, ostensibly to check on me, but the real reason soon emerged: the kids had voted for me to bring the cake! It wasn't a surprise, though, because everyone knew my mom's cakes were legendary.

 

3. My first taste of heartbreak came in 6th grade with my first boyfriend. When he ended things, the thought of school was unbearable. Tears streamed down as I confessed to her what happened, and she understandingly allowed me to stay home. We spent the day together, our hands busy making tortillas. The simple act brought a surprising sense of comfort and helped mend my fragile heart.

 

4. Halloween meant one thing: witch. My mom was the costume architect, and each year she'd conjure a new twist on the classic. One year, my hair was a wild, frizzy tempest, braided and untamed. Another, long, black, wicked nails completed the transformation. And then there was the year of the green oatmeal concoction, slathered across my face – a truly memorable, if slightly lumpy, special effect. Those were indeed good, fun times filled with creative Halloween magic.

 

5. My mom's Christmas shopping strategy has always been a marathon, not a sprint – she'd shop all year long (and bless her, she still does!). Her process involved a rigorous system of buying, wrapping, and then employing top-secret hiding places around the house. The only kink in her otherwise brilliant plan was her uncanny ability to forget where those top-secret places were by Christmas morning. One memorable year, the main gift-opening was done, dinner was eaten, and I was waist-deep in suds at the sink. Mom was chatting away when her eyes suddenly widened. She zipped off and reappeared moments later, triumphantly holding a forgotten gift she'd clearly hidden even from herself!

 

6. My mother was my first culinary instructor. Growing up, dinner was her nightly ritual, and I was her curious shadow in the kitchen, a whirlwind of "Hows," "Whys," and "How longs?" that she patiently answered. Later, when she took a job as a grocery store cake decorator and I was about twelve, the roles shifted slightly. I became the after-school chef. She'd lay out all the ingredients before heading to work, and my initial microwave creations gradually transitioned to oven-cooked meals within a year, guided by her voice on the phone each evening as I called for instructions.

 

Thank you so much for stopping by! Hope your morning/afternoon/evening is extra cozy and delightful. Until our paths cross again!