Three things that remind me of my mom.

There we sat, in awed silence, as my mother presided over a meatloaf dinner with a splendid display of Jell-O coupons arranged by expiration date, my father respectfully propelling the discussion with his opinions on which pudding flavors held up best in a pie crust.

Maybe it's being a mom myself now, or maybe it's turning forty next month, but I want to write about my family once in awhile and I need to do it from a place of okayness -- love, even. I made this little giant step yesterday when I received a charming and marvelously punctuated letter from my mom that started simply with The sky is blue with puffy white clouds, went on to mention a mysterious order of new sheets in sky blue (2) and purple (2). _________ Brand, for our King size bed, and ended with . . . I'm still having some discomfort with my Butt's center and riding over dips and bumps is painful. A pillow and some ICY Hot helps but not much. Love, Mom

So if anyone has any tips to help bring a little gemütlichkeit to a sweet old lady's painful Butt center, please let me know so I can respectfully, lovingly pass them along.