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Hello Muddah

I deserve this.

It amuses me when people write off Mother’s Day as being a “made up” holiday. Hate to break your frugal little heart, but every holiday is made up. The day in itself means nothing to the universe, it’s simply a commemoration of our projected sentimentality. In short, fish a sawbuck from your wallet and go buy your mom some nice flowers. It wasn’t enough she had to suffer your childhood, you have to shame her by denying this one granule of acknowledgement? Why? Over some cheapskate philosophy about Hallmark and commercialism? If you were my kid, I’d slap you in the face with a knife.

Or is your twisted logic more that everyone has a mom? True, if you can read this, your parents decided you were worth keeping. In this overpopulated world, motherhood may not be a rare commodity… but you’re still wrong, stupid. Having cranked out three kids, from a mom who cranked out four, in a Baptist family that cranked ’em out like a rigged slot machine, with a sister-in-law whose Filipino family could warrant its own island (i.e. the Philippines), I can safely tell you it never gets stale. Motherhood is always special no matter how many times it happens—just like the process that invented your ass in the first place (which undoubtedly ended in the immortal words, “I meant to pull out, honey, but the dog barked and it startled me”).

Between my trio of clown spawn, they make exactly zero dollars a month. (Get a job, Sean!) This keeps my finances comfortably in the red, and leaves me able to afford none of the things that would bring even the smallest semblance of personal happiness. However, even they were able to pool their nega-money together and get me that beautiful pendant you see at the top. That’s because they have a good head on their shoulders, and now momma won’t have to rip it off for skipping Mother’s Day. Celebrate me!

Tamale Pie Like Mom (Maybe) Made

Moms in my family are badass.

  • 2 lbs ground beef
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 1 red bell pepper, chopped
  • 2 cans diced fire-roasted tomatoes
  • 1 tbsp chili powder
  • 1 tsp oregano
  • 1/2 tsp cumin
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/4 tsp black pepper
  • 2 1/2 cups corn meal
  • 1 cup milk
  • 1 cup hot water
  • 1 can corn, drained
  • 2 cups shredded cheese
  • 1 tsp salt

This is a take on a dish that my mother (and her mother before her) made. I read somewhere that this dish goes back to approximately 1900, and there are a million versions. I originally intended to add black olives, but forgot them at the store.

Preheat oven to 350˚. Brown ground beef, drain and remove to bowl. Over medium heat, add olive oil to pan, followed by garlic, onion and bell pepper. Saute until onion is almost opaque. Add diced tomatoes and herbs. Heat until boiling then set aside. In medium sauce pan mix corn meal, milk, water and corn. Cook over medium heat until mixture thickens. Stir in shredded cheese and salt. Add meat mixture to a 9×13 casserole pan. Spread corn meal mixture evenly over top. Bake for 20–30 minutes or until top starts to brown around edges. Serve with sour cream and sliced avocado. (I know my mom is going to call me to let me know that this isn’t the “family” recipe, but I wasn’t able to get ahold of her on the phone, so I winged it.)

All joking aside, I’m not overly passionate about this issue. I’m not one of those self-important women burdened by a child fetish, and as such, don’t think motherhood is the hardest job in the world. (Disagree, ladies? Go mine coal.) I just believe in giving credit when credit is due, and Mother’s Day is when your matriarchal penance is paid. As for Father’s Day… well, you can’t just make shit up.

TWTG says, “I might need my plate of meat before we start the movie.”


8 responses »

  1. Agreed! And this way they don’t have to remember your birthday. Or… they? LOL good post I came for the recipe, but enjoyed the blog.

    I always hate people who say they never know what to buy anyone. People tell you what they want all the time. You need only to listen. In the case of us moms, we don’t care about gifts. We’d just like you to show up and look like you care!

  2. that charm thing on the chain. it looks like boobs and a butt. tell me it doesn’t.

  3. slap you in the face with a knife. that’s all there is to say.


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