warm muffins on the rug. beautiful kid memories. (The OU footie pajamas are just gravy)

Dear Mom,

Mornings as a mother are insane, this morning I made the mistake of not beating the kids out of bed and I woke to utter chaos.  A flurry of demands dominated the first moments of my Monday: Milk! coffee! cereal! meow! (feed me) I don’t wanna wear panties!  

I have no idea what I subjected you to as a child, I know I was a very crabby little person in the morning, but I would like to take this moment to apologize.  I’m sorry for all the times that I made your mornings unnecessarily hectic with my self-centered impatience.

Now I’m the mama and it’s truly a terrible thing to do to another person.

I know that as a Toddler I would yell for Cheerios to you over the monitor until you got me up and fed me.  “Ooooooos mumma!  Ooooooos!”

I still called you mumma all they way to the end, you loved it.  Somehow it always brought us back to each other.

You were the queen of muffins and breads, you didn’t like to do a lot in the kitchen, but muffins you seemed to enjoy and have a knack for.

I will never forget the bran muffin mornings on the cold winter days on Sally Drive.

You would keep a huge bowl of muffin batter in the fridge and bake up a fresh batch for us every morning.  Such a brilliant idea.

I remember taking two buttery muffins on a paper towel pand eating them on top to the heating register next to the table.  I would put an cream colored afghan over my head for optimum warmth.

Dad would always tease me: “C’mon Leanne, you’re sucking up all the heat!” 

I would giggle under my afghan at that comment, every time.

I miss that, all of it, the teasing and the muffins and the mornings together.  I know that they would be few and far between these days.  Surely, dominated by grandkids and all their demands.

I know you and Dad would love it, the little hands grabbing for muffins on the counter.  I can see Dad throwing them over his shoulder, blowing zerberts on their tummies.

I can’t tell you what a heartache all those dreamlike moments are to me.  Waves of pain accompany imagining all the moments that will never be.  It stings fiercely watching my children grow without you two.

I think I’ll share your bran muffins with the world and stop here, because as the great Forest Gump once said: “That’s all I have to say about that.”

I love you, I miss you,

LeaRae

Sally’s Bran Muffins 

There is nothing like hand written recipe card, crusty with use, to inspire nostalgia and memories

1 Cup Canola Oil (or applesauce to cut on fat)
1 Cup boiling water
4 Large eggs (lightly beaten)
3 Cups Brown Sugar
1 Qt Buttermilk
5 Cups Flour
5 Cups All Bran Buds
1 Cup Raisin Bran Flakes
5 tsp Baking Soda
1 tsp salt

1) Combine oil, hot water, eggs
2) Add cereal and sugar, stir.
3) Add buttermilk, baking soda and salt
4) Add flour last (Grandma V recommends 2 cups wheat germ & 3 cups white flour)
5) Add dried cranberries or additional raisins as desired.  (Plump in hot water before adding)

Bake at 400 for 15 – 20 or until toothpick comes out clean.

Batter will stay good in the fridge for two weeks or in the freezer for two months.

Bake a fresh batch each morning for total family bliss.