Visiting Mom. It’s interesting the things I treasure these days; the things I think of as miracles. Every little detail of this house fills me with nostalgia and hopes for my own future. It’s a shitty old trailer home that’s falling apart but every painted wall and wooden stool and house plant and quilt thrown over a couch causes me to think to myself, “Someday I’ll have a home just like this.” And things like the smell of freshly baking bread and homemade chicken noodle soup and the sound of the dishwasher running and the sense of my mom bustling around me while I sit at the bar and write makes me feel like I’m at a spa for my soul.
Been spending a lot of time talking to Mom about Mike and my relationship with him so far and our dreams for the future. A text from him that said:
“I saw this adorable little girl with long bright red hair. I pointed her out to my Mom and she said, ‘You and Meggo will probably have one just like her.'”
sparked a conversation with my mom about how one of the things that caused Mike and I to think that we’re probably going to end up getting married was the night both of us separately had dreams of a little girl with curly red hair in a white sundress. My mom’s response to this was “Aww, how cute. No babies before you’re married.” It’s nice when she goes all lecturing-Mom on me. I need a parent who will tell me when they think I’m being stupid. Dad does, but he thinks I’m stupid ALL THE TIME, so it’s hard to take him seriously. I talked to Mom about it and let her know that she has indeed earned the right to tell me I’m an idio and she agreed to do so more often. I said if she’ll do that and keep cooking delicious food she’ll make “Mommy of the year” for sure.