A few weeks ago, my mom stumbled across this gem during her spring cleaning/organizing frenzy. Immediately I asked her if I could borrow it so I could document it with photos for all eternity and of course, BLOG ABOUT IT.
My mom and I have always been pretty close. I mean, I did those typical teenager things where I Hated My Mom and maybe flipped her the bird through my bedroom wall because OMG SHE IS RUINING MY LIFFFFFFE! But a rebellious kid, I was not. We got along for the most part and I knew she loved me, even if she did put me through such horrible injustices like not letting have the car after school or telling me that pegging my jeans looked stupid. MOM, YOU ARE SO OLD-FASHIONED.
When I was in my early teen years, I wrote poetry (like probably everybody else at that age). I still have a whole binder full of embarrassing, terrible poems written about whichever boy I was crushing on that week or whatever ridiculous high school drama I was experiencing with a friend. (Perhaps someday I will be brave enough to document THOSE here… but today is not that day. Because OY.) And for my mom’s 33rd birthday, I apparently sat down and wrote her a poem. I was 14.
(Let’s all just pause for a moment to think about me, right now, being 32 years old and imagine me HAVING A THIRTEEN YEAR OLD. OMG. My poor mother.)
Anyway. Here is my Recipe For The Best Mother. I have absolutely zero recollection of writing this, by the way. But I’m pretty sure it’s 100% original. I particularly enjoyed my illustrations. And the fact that this was written with one of those fancy calligraphy pens with interchangeable ink cartridges. I was SO INTO THOSE in 1993.
Dan read this and cracked a joke about the ‘caring shove’ line. I mean, isn’t that exactly what us moms do? We love our kids to pieces, but DAMMIT, JUST GO LET’S MOVE!
I love the flames on the stovetop here. LOVE THEM. I’m such an artist!
And no card would be complete without a copyright message. I was an entrepreneur, even back then.
Now, cheesy pictures and dorky rhymes aside, as I read this now as a mother myself nearly 20 (!!) years later, I think the fact that I wrote this for her is a testament to how wonderful my mom really is. I was fourteen! Probably the most traumatic age for any mother and daughter! And I loved her enough and was aware of her love for me enough to sit down and express that. I can only hope that someday, MY girls will be able to understand how much I love them- even when we are in the midst of the door-slamming and through-the-bedroom-wall-middle-finger-throwing phases.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Thank you for all the caring shoves through the years.