Not five minutes ago I finished the most incredible piece of
Unless you live under a rock and haven't been paying attention for the last several years to the gradual build up to what happens in just over an hour from now, you know that there is a major movie event about to happen.
In preparation for said event, the kids started on a marathon mission of watching all of the previous movies so everything will be fresh on their minds when they watch the newest and final installment. This afternoon, when I got home they were on the last one. I took sandwiches in for them and was met with the proclamation of "Mom, you are just like Mrs. Weasley!" At first, I took offense at such a comparison, but after thinking about it for a minute and wondering if maybe I had some Floo powder in my pocket (boy would that come in handy!) I decided I'll take it! Now, I may have set myself up for this statement after having spent a good deal of time last night trying to convince them that they NEEDED for me to knit matching sweaters with their initials on them. Oddly enough, nearly 17 year old boys that bear a striking behavioral similarity to... maybe... two boys named Fred and George...are not too keen on such an idea. Yes, I KNOW, I was just as shocked as you are! What Mother would not be happy to be compared to another Mom (fictional is irrelevant) that is highly domestically skilled, is tough as nails but soft as a kitten, fiercely loves her children and welcomes friends of her kids into her home with open arms, and is not afraid to make clear to her children what she will accept and expect all while dosing out equal measures of love and discipline?
And with that, I promptly returned to the kitchen to make jam...raspberry and strawberry, if you must know. All was good and right with my maternal world, until...SOMEONE suggested that perhaps me standing in the kitchen taking jars of jam out of the giant canner was reminiscent of Granny on The Beverly Hillbillies.
For tonight anyway...