mommy 'n' me

So as long as it doesn't involve a sewing machine, my mom can do anything. (In our home, the sewing machine is against the Word of Wisdom. We don't eat it. And we don't use it.) It's not that she can't sew, it's that she doesn't like to sew. But really, who cares about sewing when you have Theresa (our friend and seamstress extraordinaire) living two doors down? :) (Seriously. I think the woman could whip up a stack of pancakes with some thread and a needle.) And it doesn't matter that my mom doesn't sew because this is usually how things go in my life:

Upon moving into new apartment and finding my dryer not connected to the wall. Push Mom's speed dial.
Me: "Um, hi. The little accordion like silver thing that is suppose to go into the dryer is not connected. Do I use this other wire thingy to attach it?"

Of course she knew.

When cooking salisbury steak, after realizing I don't actually have that ingredient that I should naturally have in my fridge: horseradish. (Seriously? Who really likes horseradish.)
Me, text: "So I don't have horseradish for my salisbury steak. Go without? Or put in something else."
Mom, text: "Try a 1/2 t of garlic salt."

The salisbury steaks were delish. And my fridge thanks me for the continued absence of a material that received its name when a quadruped had an unfortunate run in with a vegetable.

When looking online at Etsy shops, where they sell cute baby items that I KNOW I could make if I just had a mom to teach me (where could I find one of those...).
Me, email: "So you know that edging crochet thing you do on baby blankets? Does it have a name? Can you teach me? Where do I get the blankets?"
Mom, email: "It's called crocheting. And I can get the blankets here with the little holes punched in them. And yes, I can teach you."

She brought blankets.

And she brought with her a recipe that so closely duplicates Cafe Rio, I began salivating a week ago when I heard about it. (Fresh Mex is not in vogue here.) She also brought cinnamon bunnies (because apparently bears are not in vogue in Utah), as I can't find any gummy cinnamon candies in Durham. She brought my favorite chocolate candies from Brazil. But most importantly, she brought my mommy, she brought home.

She's quite the woman. And this whole about to be a mom thing makes me so highly aware of her, her accomplishments, her commitment to raising four daughters from start to finish. (By the way, she's not finished. As long as we're her babies, she won't be finished, which pretty much means she's stuck with my incessant questions until the end of time. And I love that about her.) She is brilliant, accomplished, loving. She inspires me to be the kind of mom that she was and always will be to me. Always there, always has the answers, always listening. It would be a dream if my babies could love me and look up to me as much as I do her. If I could just be half the mom she is, I'm pretty sure I'll consider myself a rock star.

And thank goodness I don't have to sew to become one.

P.S. Why yes, my face is getting more round. THANKS FOR ASKING.
P.P.S. Why yes, she's my mom, NOT MY SISTER. :)
P.P.P.S. Why yes, I'd love to have her genes.