(no subject)

It's Mother's Day where I am. Some of you have met my mum. She's pretty awesome. I didn't always see that (on the other hand, I'm not convinced it wasn't reciprocal - we got on each other's nerves a lot). I still think the best thing I ever did for my relationship with my mother was to move far away so that the friction burns (nineteen years of rawness) could heal up a bit.

I don't think I will ever stop fearing that I am disappointing my mother. I don't think I'll ever stop wanting her to be proud of me. Now, though, it's because I value her good opinion and respect, and then it was because I was afraid I had neither.

The last year, I am so totally pumped about how pumped she is that I finally have a job she feels she can adequately describe to her friends. My main job is "something with computers, she types a lot"; now she can tell people I teach math. She's a teacher herself, which is something I really admire about her. I remember when she felt my sister and I were old enough that she could go back to work (my mother was lucky enough to have the choice), and I was so proud of her. I still am. If Mrs. F. is ever a sub for your kid's class, your kid is a lucky kid. Good teachers and good parents are immensely undervalued, I think, and my mother is both of those things.

Happy Mother's Day, Mum. I can't wait to go to that Alan Doyle show with you.

Love, always,
Em

This is why I procrastinate.

Two burns, three stubbed toes, and assorted lacerations later (seriously, why is my oven door SHARP I don't even), my kitchen is spotless.

Until about ten minutes from now, when I remove my sweet potato from the oven and put it onto a plate and eat it with a spoon, at which point there will be dirty dishes.

Again.

EDIT: to clarify, it's not that bad, really. The lacerations are all on the paper cut level, and only one of the burns is developing a (very small) blister. I'm mostly amused by the way I can never seem to clean without hurting myself in some small and irritating way.