I had a birthday "party" for my Mom last night. Our parties are wild, let me tell you! By wild, I mean with children running around! Mom has six grandchildren, my nephew Gavin is 4, my Aidan is 3, Landon would be 2, Allyson will be 1 next week, then my twins, Bekah and Gracie are 4 months. She's not doing too badly for someone who thought she'd never be a grandma!
I cooked a meal that looked like it belonged at a Baptist dinner on the ground. I made fresh green beans, (I broke them myself and cooked them all day long in some pork fat, mmmmm!), chicken and dumplins, meatloaf, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, and a 7-layer salad. Plus a cake. Then, mom's friends brought cornbread and cookies and a couple other desserts, and my Momaw made a strawberry jello poke cake. Good food! All from scratch, every bit of it.
I know some women say they make dumplins from scratch, but I can tell that just means they scratch their hiney and knock the can of biscuits against the counter. I start with flour and work my way through it. I'd be embarrassed to do otherwise. I admit, I'm a fatty, and I cook like a granny. My husband told everyone that he only married me for my cooking.
We had a great night of food and family and friends. And kids! My mom is never happier than when she's surrounded by all of her grandbabies. All of her grandbabies. I hate that term. It isn't all of her grandbabies, and it never will be. No matter what, there'll always be one missing. But, I really seem to be the only one who hangs on to that. I think everyone that was here, at some point last night, said that phrase. Except me.