On Being Mothers

We have to possess both yin and yang. Can't help it. Comes with the territory. We can be all warm and fuzzy one moment and have to turn on a dime to be strong and authoritative, sometimes downright mean. Lordy. The teenager. Seventeen going on 32. This was my mother's day present from him. Like mother, like son. We're both hippies at heart, love our incense, oil burners etc. I have some wonderful scent burning now, don't know what it is, but it sure smells good. I needed it to calm me down. The teenager probably knew he was going to get in trouble for something and thought the present would save him from my wrath. Wrong. There is nothing that can protect you from your mother, really, now is there?

We had a wonderful brunch this morning at The Hermitage Hotel in Nashville (see last year's post for more). It was absolutely delicious. I could handle a few more mimosas though. I'm actually craving another as I write this. Hmmmmm. Maybe the hub and I could hit another place and sip a few more???? Mom and I had one each, shoulda had a few more, obviously didn't get my fill. Of course, dessert was my favorite. They had European macaroons! I've never seen them here in the States. What fun! Remember the ones I brought back from Switzerland? I'm going to have to call and see where they got them. Yum! Made me "home" sick for Europe (like I'm European, hehe). Pout. You know here we call those little clusters of coconut macaroons. Over there, they're two small "bun" shaped meringue with a s"schmere" of flavored cream in between. They just melt in your mouth if they're the real thing. Today's were a tad chewy, but good just the same over here in "Amurica." I was just so excited to see them!

Mom looked so pretty and ate so well. Actually, she ate half of my cheesecake after eating all of hers. That's always a good sign! (We both get the munchies when we drink, hiccup.)

We all came home fat and happy. That is until the kid comes home and asks "Does the teenager smoke?" What? Why? A neighbor saw him driving down the road with a cigarette! Wha????? I called his butt up and told him to throw every cigarette away that he had and to come straight home, NOW! He walked through that door and didn't know what hit him. I swear. What a dumbo. We have talked about smoking cigarettes and talked about it and talked about it. He has sworn to me that he didn't smoke. After I let him smoke his hookah (stupid on my part, I know), he progresses to cigarettes? Uh uh. Ain't gonna happen. No more hookah, no more cigarettes. Ooh, I let into him. Momma done gone ballistic. Just when I think he's doing well, he's pulls some stupid stunt like that. Brat. Oh, and after I ream him out, he comes downstairs with my mother's day present. Like that's going to make me feel better. Brat.

Motherhood.