Are you there Mom? It's me...again.

Scene: Tuesday night. My condo. Watching the World Juniors hockey gold medal game
Players: Just me, myself, and I. Oh, and devil kitty, he's here too.

I've got my "painful" face mask on as I call it; seriously - this thing doesn't play around, even the label says "feel your face pulsate." I've had a girlfriend do this one with me, and she hasn't asked to come back and repeat the process. I have a love hate relationship with this thing, I'll write more about it [and my at home spa] at a later date - but I swear this leads into today's blog.

Besides the pain, the main thing I hate about this facemask is that I can't talk for a good half hour. It pulls so tight that I can't answer my phone, and my main frustration right now is that I want to call my mom. No reason specifically, just to talk and laugh with [at] each other. My mom is a reverse age-r: she gets prettier, stronger, and funnier with age - I can only hope that this is how I age [although if the label on this devil mask is correct, I should shave a few years off by struggling through the 10-20 minutes twice a week].

Hands down, my Mom is my best friend. It didn't always used to be that way, when I was younger, "friend" wouldn't be the first term I'd use to describe her. Granted I couldn't drink back then, but wine isn't the only thing that fuels our friendship. I mean it's a lot of it, and some days more than others, but whether its 9am or 9pm [on a Saturday when we're both feeling prettier and funnier], we still laugh just as hard.

The start of our friendship was when I moved away to University. It took a good 600km of space for me to realize not just how much I needed her, but how cool she was. Throughout University, she would drive up 99% of the time for my meets, always cheering [or secretly love cursing] from the stands. After every routine, and sometimes even before, I would look up in the stands and there she was, looking more nervous than I was. One of the greatest days for me was my last gymnastics meet EVER in Seattle - both my parents & brother were there, and the look on my mom's face after I landed my last dismount was a mixture of happiness, relief, and that "mom" look when you know they're really proud of you.

After graduation I moved home, not only back to Toronto, but home-home with my parents. Originally I had planned to apply for a work Visa to stay in the US, but in the Fall of 2005 my Brother passed away, and I knew that as soon as I graduated the following Spring, I needed to go home. I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out, but I knew that I needed my parents [not just for money and lodging], and they needed me [not just for someone to do all the cooking]. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, when I moved home it was hard - I missed my life and my friends back in Michigan, but it didn't take long for me to realize it was the smartest decision I've ever made.


For the past 3 years through all the changes in my life, my mom has been my top BFF, and I hope it stays that way for the rest of our lives. While I lived at home, we both tried new things [yoga], we both then quit some of those new things [pilates], and we earned more Shoppers Optimum points than most of you will in a lifetime. I introduced my mom to lots of life's necessities - American Apparel, tanning, and Multi-Grain Cheerios to name a few. In return, she taught me how to iron a shirt, how to make garlic spare ribs, and how to sing. All three I haven't quite mastered [tried], but you bet your a*s mi madre has mastered many of my lessons. She could lead the MAC 187 foundation application tutorial, she'd ace a celebrity gossip quiz, and she will always beat you to the best "that's what she said"s.

Note: she also outwears me in the thigh-high leather boots category, and the first time I saw her in skinny jeans I was jealousy-induced speechless.

All necessities aside, my mom is realistic. She understands my habits, my struggles, and my abilities to handle the different things life throws my way. She never judges, never interrogates, and never over steps her boundaries. She realizes that I am an adult and need to make my own decisions, which in turn will sometimes lead to my own mistakes - and that's okay. She knows I need to learn for myself, but there is no question that both my parents are always there for me, quietly in the background, but very aware and never distant.

Fast forward three years and I've moved out of my parents house [finally] and I'm very quickly learning that I want to be just like my Mom. We talk and laugh all day every day, and I am fortunate enough to live and work close by. We still buy the same things [Reebox Easytones.. they work ps], still obsess over the same things [Davids Tea, Thursdays blog fyi], and we still prefer to spend our nights watching 48 Hours Mystery just like we did when I lived at home.

As I finish up this post, I realize I haven't heard from her in almost 3 hours. She is watching the hockey game which I guess is okay, but aside from obvious sleeping hours, a three hour lag is rare. I hope she is having a good night, that she has had a good day, and that even if nothing else - she knows I love her and think she is pretty and funny all on her own.