This past weekend, a good friend and I went to the Genoa Candy Dance. I had assumed that people would be dancing and throwing candy around. I mean, isn’t that what it sounds like it would be?? To my dismay, the Candy Dance was just a bunch of over-priced vendors and food trucks (apparently there is a dinner and dance event in the evening). The food truck part was, however, much appreciated. What I did really like about this event was that it was held in Nevada’s oldest town/settlement. For a history lover, it is a real damn shame that I had never been to Genoa before. I fully plan on visiting again sans tons of people pushing to get to a stall selling crocheted rabbits.
In honor of Mother’s Day here in America, I thought it would be fitting to re-blog a post I did about my mother on my old site, Big City Betty. Enjoy!
My mother is a phenomenal woman. My mother is the person who keeps me grounded and helps me to get my head out of the clouds and… out of my ass. She is the rational voice in my head telling me what the right thing to do is. She taught me that when you commit to something, you do it. No going back. She taught me that to have a friend, you must be one first. She taught me how to properly set a table and how to fold a fitted sheet (OK, she TRIED to teach me how to fold a fitted sheet. Don’t tell her that I just ball it up, throw it in the closet, and that is as good as it gets). She taught me that Christmas is truly magical and is best spent with family and lots of Chocolate Crinkles and egg nog. She taught me to always R.S.V.P and to say ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome’. She taught me how to be crafty and how to tie the perfect bow. She taught me that a spoon full of PB and J in the middle of the night cures all nightmares and worries. My mother is my best friend and I honestly do not know what in the world I would do without her. It is funny how all girls go through stages with their mothers. When you are little she is the only one who can calm you down when you are upset and she knows just what makes you feel good when you are sick. When you are about 10 she drives you crazy, telling you how to dress and no matter what you say, you still have to wear the poodle sweater. When you are a teenager you butt heads with her and promise yourself you will never be like her when you grow up. When you are a young adult you begin to realize that your mother is actually your friend and confidante. You realize that you can laugh together about life and that you actually relate to one another. You realize that you can laugh and laugh and talk and talk for hours, days. Forever. You realize that you want to be just like her.
As I have mentioned before, I moved away from my life in Reno to come to Elko. With that move, I left so many things and, I left my mother. I loved my shopping, my apartment and my friends, and was so very sad to leave all of that, but to leave my mother…well, that was a whole different story. Without a doubt, leaving my mother was the saddest thing I have ever had to do. When I moved out on my own for the first time it was a piece of cake. I never looked back, but only because I knew my mother was 10 minutes away if it all came crashing down. I talk to my mom as much as I can and I cherish the time I get to spend with her when I come to visit. We sit and laugh for hours and it seems it is never enough. I have so many fond memories of my mother. As I have grown from a teenager into an adult, we have definitely butt heads, but boy have we had a good time, too.
I was always notorious for borrowing my mother’s deodorant, socks, etc. without ever putting what I “borrowed” back. My mom would get irate with me when she would go to put on her pit potion and it was not there. She would curse under her breath and tell me if I did it one more time she was gonna…yeah, you know how moms sound. Well, one morning, I guess she had had it. It was early and I was getting ready for school. I don’t even think I was fully functioning yet, and had only one eye open when there was a knock on my door. Wait, no, it was not a knock it was more of a “BANG, BANG!” and an, “OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!” Oh shit, I knew what she was looking for! I clumsily stumbled to, and unlocked the door and before I could even open the thing, it flung wide open and there was my mom in full glory, buck naked and wild eyed. She bellowed, “Give me my deodorant, NOW!” I was pretty much scared for my life… and subsequently blind, so I happily obliged. When I handed her the borrowed item, all she said (and very sweetly mind you) was, “Thank you and have a nice day”. I have never “borrowed” a thing from her since that day.
When I was around 22, my mother and I somehow got into a conversation about clothing sizes. Since the days of her dressing me in stirrup pants and hideous Christmas sweaters were over, she was unaware of what size I wore. She was convinced that she wore a smaller size than me. I was aghast! Of course she didn’t wear my size! No way. But, she was persistent. She knew she could fit into my size and that there would be excess fabric at that. I was also very sure of myself. I suggested she try on some of my clothing. “Bring it!”, she said. I remember her confidence was practically through the roof and out in space somewhere. I grabbed a skirt and a shirt that didn’t have much stretch (stretch would be cheating). She got the shirt on, but the seams were bulging. She was slightly disheartened, but still confident. She knew the skirt would fit, she was sure of it. As she is old-fashioned, she put the skirt on over her head (big mistake). It was about boob level, but some was still over her head, when it got stuck. And when I say stuck, I mean she had her hands fixed above her head and was sweating and starting to swear. She was still not giving up, however. Beside the fact that she was standing in the middle of the living room, in her shoes and underwear with garments stuck on her boobs and over her head, she didn’t give up. She said, “They will fit, watch!”. I was pretty much losing it at this point. Through fits of laughter and tears streaming down my face, I somehow said that I was most definitely watching and inquired if she would like to record her upcoming win on the video camera. The squirming, sweating and swearing seemed to go on forever, until she said, “OK, OK, it doesn’t fit, OK? Help me!” I have to admit I stood there just laughing and pointing for a few more minutes until I helped her out of my clothes. She couldn’t deny that the entire thing was a riot and was laughing hysterically at this point, as well. She grudgingly admitted that I do, in fact, wear a smaller size than her. I was pleased, but more so from the amazing show. She put her clothes back on and said, “I need a stiff drink”.
Here’s to my amazing mama! Happy Mother’s Day!
Love this lady’s blog, and what a great idea! Spread the love, loves!
You are welcome to our Valentine Blog Bash.
Just make yourself comfortable.
Refreshments are nicely arranged down the page. Drinks, Chocolates, Cakes, Donuts and so much more. 🙂
This video had me cracking.
You can crack your Poetic Prowess by taking part in continuing this tag along poem below. The full poem will be published on my Tuesday’s Trivia with every part attributed to the contributor. So here goes…
Her eyes shone with tears
That clung to her lashes
She glanced at the ring
It’s twinkles brought back flashes
Okay, so here are the rules of partying and mingling.
- You must mix and mingle with others. Don’t be a wall flower. Go say hello to someone and you can participate in the Tag a poem up above.
- Please leave your blog link or post link in the comment box below along with an introductions.
- It’s one link per comment, but…
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