Joy the Baker

When it comes time for a little human to call me Mom, there are several things I hope for.  Here are a few of those hopes:

I hope that I’ll no longer run screaming from the room at the sight of a spider.  Mom has to take care of the spider… that’s sort of part of the deal as Mom, right?  Maybe can I always get away with saying, “Let’s go get Daddy to take care of that spider.”  I hope that works.

I hope that a deep affection for pickles and pancakes, though not necessarily on the same plate, is hereditary.

I hope that I have as good a pair of Mom Hands as my mom.

Most importantly, I hope that I create as patient and loving, supportive and hilarious a family as was provided for me.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you who have the patience and care to raise new, happy, and lovely people in the world.

Here’s some dreamy Raspberry Lemonade, and all sort sof recipes that you might consider making for your mom and family this weekend.

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These bourbon laden treats were inspired by two things:  those still spring, but almost summer days that give you a hint at just how blazing hot this summer is going to be, and… this weekend’s Kentucky Derby.

Here’s what I know about Spring:

It’s green.  Once we get past the Easter Bunny stage, it’s all about blooming flowers and May showers.  Spring makes me feel like I’m in love with the world… probably because I am.

Here’s what I know about the Kentucky Derby:

Horses.  Hats.  Mint Juleps.

Here’s what I know about bourbon:

Dang, it’s good!

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I went into this post practically kicking and screaming today.  Let’s be honest-  sometimes the words flow, other times it’s a task just to get myself to sit in the chair long enough to post a few words and photos.

This whiny, kicking and screaming, can’t-even-stand-myself feeling seems to be a Labor Day holiday signature of mine.  See, the holiday represents the end of summer.  I’ve always had enormous jubilation for Memorial Day, the unofficial kick off of summer, and great disdain for it’s holiday evil doppelganger- Labor Day.  When I was a kid, we would always have to return to school the Tuesday after Labor Day.  The end of summer and the return to school always seemed like a great tragedy to me.  I’m talking Hamlet level tragedy.

It would seem that the feelings of that 9 year old, who can’t come to terms with her new backpack and Trapper Keeper have followed me to adulthood.  I still don’t like Labor Day.  I still have a hard time coming to terms with the end of summer.  But now I get to add alcohol to the mix.

My Oh My.  Cucumber Raspberry Vodka Sparklers.

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