When you have a mom that can cook

Life Is Better With A Mom Who Can Cook

It's like having a built in restaurant in your house - except you don't tip with money, you wash all the dishes instead.

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For as long as I can remember, my moms cooking has been one of the things that gave me the most joy growing up.

When I was in the second grade, I came home from my first day of school to be pleasantly surprised with a pan of gooey cheesecake swirl brownies waiting for me in the kitchen. The house was warm and even though it was still hot outside I didn't care. I could smell the sweet scent of the brownies from the bottom of stairs. While these were in fact just your average brownie mix in a box, she somehow made it taste like it was so much more. So I sat at the dining room table and ate my now favorite brownies, feeling so grateful but being too young to express it fully.

Her brownies were good (and still are), but that's not the kind of good food that I'm talking about.

My mom is the reason why I try to convince every person that I meet that Indian food is the BEST food, even thought it looks weird. From the time i was a kid, I grew up in a house that was always filled with aromas of different spices that made our kitchen smell like you just walked into a restaurant. And here's the best part: The food not only smelled amazing, but it tasted amazing too. I always knew it would be a good night when I got home from school and could smell my favorite food that she was cooking from the minute I walked through the front door.

She's the kind of cook that has never once measured how much ingredients she puts into her food, always a sprinkle of this and sprinkle of that and maybe some more of this, but I needed to give it a taste first to let her know for sure. She never questioned her choices, never unsure. Sometimes cautious, but never unwavering in her skill. Somehow, after a billion times of making the same thing over and over, it all tastes amazing. To this day, it still boggles my mind that she can make all this food by memory. Watching her cook is like magic, it's everything that is wonderful and

Even though my mom has cooked the same dishes over and over again over the course of my 20 years (with some hamburger helper thrown in there for my own enjoyment), I could never get tired of her calling me over to the kitchen and doing a taste test.

There's this tradition for my birthday that my mom cooks my favorite meal- all the works. While this is something that most families do with their kids, this is different. It feels special in a way that eating it on any other day doesn't compare.

When you have a mom that can cook you begin to realize that when your mom cooks food for you it's her love language towards you. It's her saying 'I know you love this, and i love you". There is so much joy in knowing that my mom has the skills to make a satisfying meal, because I don't think I could have survived my 20 years eating mac and cheese out of the box.

When you have a mom that can cook, you can rest asure that she knows what she's doing, which in return means you can almost always count on skipping out on the McD's for a day and going home to a warm plate of goodness.

Sometimes I would watch my mom cook just to watch and she would do it without thinking. There has never been a moment where she was confused with what she was doing, she just knew how to do it, it's like second nature. I would watch as she so smoothly mixed all the right spices together to create this work of art.

A lot of my happy childhood memories surrounded my mom cooking and my brother and I taking a plate and going down to our basement to watch a TV show or a movie. We would settle in the basement and then pray a prayer of thankfulness that our mom could cook amazing food.

My mom doesn't necessarily believe she's Americas next top chef, but in my eyes she is. So the next time your mom whips up something amazing, or maybe just something out of the box, tell her thank you. Show your appreciation and then to really show her you love her, do the dishes afterwards.

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8 Reasons Girls Who Love Tequila Are Better

Because if she can handle tequila, she can handle you too.
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There are all kinds of alcohol stereotypes out there but the one associated with tequila is probably the worst: tequila makes you crazy. But if there's one thing we can all agree on, it's that women who drink tequila are one-of-a-kind.

Whether it's loving or fighting, you'll never find anyone who does it better than a girl who just straight up loves tequila, and here are a few reasons why that is.

1. She's independent

A girl who drinks tequila is probably the same girl who has absolutely no problem telling it like it is. She knows what she wants and goes after it.

2. She doesn't care what you or anyone else thinks

Oh, you have a problem with me taking shots and having a good time? Well, get over it! Bartender, a shot with salt and a lime please!

3. Always dancing

Tequila is an 'upper' so instead of sitting at the bar doing nothing, let's dance! Let's get moving!

4. There is never a dull moment

Speaking of dancing, a girl who drinks tequila is always down for a good time. Whether it's going on an adventure or seeing who can take the most shots, a tequila girl is always down to party.

5. While everyone else is starting to get sleepy, she has all the energy

Like I said, tequila is an 'upper' so while the other girls at the bar are starting to feel groggy and sad, she's all over the place having fun and partying on the dancefloor.

6. She's stronger than the girl crying over a vodka cranberry at the bar.

Sad over a breakup? Don't go for the vodka... Tequila will make you feel better in no time! Plus you can challenge the hot guys at the bar to a shot taking contest.

7. Tequila is healthy for you

Tequila is a probiotic, so some tequila a day keeps the doctor away. Yay for shots!

8. She can hold her own when it comes to alcohol

Any girl who can shoot some shots at the bar all day and night can handle alcohol, which means she can handle herself too. You won't have to deal with her constant breakdowns and mood swings because she will be too busy ordering more shots.

Cover Image Credit: Whiskey Riff

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To My Beautiful Mother, Thank You For Everything

Here's the best "Thank You" I can put into words.

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Today was not my day.

We were in the middle of a CVS and I started crying because I saw this Mike Wazowksi stuffed animal, and it reminded me of how fast I'm growing up. It was really, really stupid. You gave me your sunglasses to cover my blotchy eyes and told me to pretend we were at the pharmacy because I had an eye infection. I was sniffling and wearing these ridiculously oversized sunglasses (because sometimes you dress like an honest-to-god celebrity), and all the pharmacists and the people in line looked at us like we were insane. You didn't care. We drove around for a bit in your brand new car and you told me that there are just days like this and that I was going to be okay.

Later tonight, I went out for some fresh air. You picked me up in your pajama pants. I could tell that you were really tired. From the kitchen now, I can see the edge of your socks on our Michigan blanket. You were watching your lawyer show and you fell asleep on the couch again. Thanks for picking me up.

Dad says that when we were still living in that two-flat on Carmen, you liked to play Van Morrison and dance around in circles with me. "Into The Mystic" was our favorite one. To this day, I still love when I hear Van sing, "We were born before the wind." and when I'm away at school and they play"Brown-Eyed Girl" at the bar, I always think of our old house.

It used to be just me, you, dad, and a black lab. I was your first kid, and you and dad were barely 30 when I was born. You are both tan and happy in our first family photos. I like to think that the two of you were pretty excited to have me. I remember when dad painted The Cow Jumped Over The Moon on the far wall of my bedroom. There would be this big, bright-yellow saucer moon, and a smiling spoon holding hands with a dish waiting for me when I came home. I know that you wanted me to be a happy kid from the very first day. You dressed me like a chubby little corn on the cob for my first Halloween.

You watched "Monsters Inc." with me on the couch almost every night, and I know you got tired of it. You walked me around the neighborhood with stroller shaped like a little red car and we were the coolest chicks on the block. I lost my favorite stuffed animal, this spotted little dog, and we searched together for hours. You even helped me make "MISSING" posters and post them around the neighborhood, in case I left him at the park or playing outside. You brushed out my curls every morning before school even when I screamed and cried and fought you. You drove me to violin practice on Tuesday nights and let me play my Taylor Swift CD's on the way there, as long as you could listen to your music on the way back. One year you even took me to see her in concert at the Allstate Arena. You bought me a Taylor Swift poster, and we watched her music videos together on the home computer. You worked hard so I could have a good childhood.

You opened your own law practice and saved up money so I could go to this fancy, private school in the West Loop. The people there were different than me. They dressed differently and talked in a different way than I'd grown up with. To be crass, the majority of them had lots of money- and they acted like it. So, what did you do? You busted your ass off, and in addition to paying what was essentially college tuition, you took me shopping at Vineyard Vines so I could fit in with the kids at school. That was almost too nice of you. Like, maybe you should have just told me to shut up, wear the clothes I had already, and deal with it. You're too giving for that.

During the winter when the days were hard and everything just felt crappy, I took the Taylor Street bus to your office after school. You always gave me money to go get Chipotle across the street. You cleared out the conference room so I could either nap or do homework. We drove home together from downtown and the traffic was always unbearable, but we talked about what was going on in our lives as we inched down the highway. On the days like those, I felt like you were my best and truest friend in the world.

You taught me to be down-to-earth, and that a glass of wine a day is good for the health.

You didn't bat an eye when I told you I wanted to major in journalism. You stayed up late with me one night when I was a little bit... "sick", and ran a marathon the next day. I watched you run a political campaign and win fair-and-square. You refused to play into the games of politics, and I watched you become a Cook County Judge because of how fair and genuine you are. You taught me that dark hair and red lipstick will never go out of style. You taught me that a clean house is essential for peace of mind. You told me to never go to bed mad at someone I love.

So mother, as I reflect on the day we went through together today, I want you to know that the way you care for me will never go unnoticed. You are a kickass, professional woman, but also a pretty fun lady to be around. Thanks for your wisdom.

Thanks for everything.

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