And there I stood in my mothers shoes, years later in my own kitchen. Just as she did.
I had been the “allergy kid”. No gluten, eggs, dairy or corn. So everything she made from scratch. Spending tons because it wasn’t yet trendy. Recipie had to be figured out before the age of pintrest. So there she stood for hours in her kitchen. Pouring out her love for me in a labor of food. All so I’d never feel different or left out.
So here I stand with a mountain of to dos making fries so this weekend little man can partake with everyone else. This moment overwhelmed with a better understanding of all that she gave. All that I will give.
With eyes open I stand pouring out the same mothers love. To my own allergy babe. Just so he’ll always feel apart of this world. Here in this kitchen. Here is where motherhood comes full circle.