momica

I may not get back to our Thanksgiving week, as enough crazy busy time has passed that I've forgotten most of it. Brief disclaimer: I try to avoid cussing in my blog, more so than in my speech. Speech is so temporal, while the written word is a bit more lasting. One could go back and reference my foul mouth over and over again, while in conversation, it's like a neon light fading into the distance. Oh, and it's also because my hypocrisy knows no bounds.

Now, that said: My mother is the shit. A rock star, really. I lean on her pretty hard when I'm in Billings, and she's pretty amenable, taking Blake off my hands to free me to see friends, run errands, have coffee - whatever. Well, over Thanksgiving, I didn't just lean: I jumped into her arms and let her carry me all over, while feeding me peeled grapes. And changing the oil in my car.

SHE'S JUST THAT AMAZING.

I got to sleep in (even though Blake told her that "Momma stay in bed all day"), go shopping, spend copious amounts of time with girlfriends, and, this is key: leave the house after 8:00 pm. It was all I thought it could be and more.

Thanks Mom. I really needed that. Would you like a peeled grape?