As previously threatened I was planning on reposting some old posts involving my mother. A relative actually had asked how my mother and father met and I was going to repost that story, but I've been lax in labeling my posts and I haven't found it yet. I did come across this family memory from the more recent past. We had just been in our new home for a couple of months. I was aware that my mother had alzheimers and we tried to keep her with us as long as possible. We had sold two homes and combined households in 1996 ..
These old posts are from that old blog of mine called The Foaming Moan ..
Making Pumpkin Pie in the Schaumi Household
one 83 year old Oma
one 9 year old son
one cameo appearance by a 15 year old
one 47 year old mama/daughter
one phone with sis-in-law on the other end
pumpkin pie ingredients
and the star: the mixing ladle
or should it be the pumpkin pie?
My mother loves to make pumpkin pie. She makes great pumpkin pie. Everybody always raves over her pumpkin pie. Whenever she is asked to bring a dish she loves to bring ......... pumpkin pie. Not surprisingly, for Thanksgiving at my in-laws she was to bring her pumpkin pie.
The eve before Thanksgiving she was finally ready to make those pies. I readied all the ingredients and baking supplies for her. As I was doing this I remembered that my youngest, my 9 year old, loves to help his other grandmother bake all kinds of cookies, cakes, pies, pancakes, etc. And the other grandma loves to do this with said son. I, therefore, holler at my youngest who comes running all excited to help his Oma bake a pie. And I'm ready to leave my son in the capable hands of the woman that had raised me, oh so well, with love and patience. Surly this woman would teach him the secret to her famous pie.
When the kitchen phone rings I answer it without hesitation and am quite willing to attentively listen to the rambles of an in-law relative from whom I had not heard from in a while. My back is turned to my mother and son who are measuring and mixing pumpkin pie ingredients. My mouth starts to water in anticipation of a great pumpkin pie. I still manage to listen to my relative even though my son and mother are creating enough of a distraction what with their voices filled with love and laughter as they communicate with each other. I start focusing more on the loving background sounds being exchanged by my oma and son......except on closer listening they don't appear to be all that loving......more like bickering.....nasally impatient noises full of groaning and whining.....
I ignore these noises and focus back on the chatter of my relative. Surely this squabble in the background will abate any second now. It better. After all, 83 year old Omas and nine year old sons don't squabble over the making of pumpkin pie. I continue to concentrate on the chitchat of my relative but the squabbling and bickering gets louder. I respond with an impatient SHHHHHH and tell my sis-in-law that I might have to get off the phone. Finally when I hear my 9 year old crying I realize that I have to face the situation to which I had kept a turned back, get off the phone and deal with whatever situation my mother and son had gotten themselves into.
So, what do I find when I turn around? My mother and 9 year old in a fierce tug of war with the ladle and and arguing over who gets to stir the pumpkin pie batter. A couple of tears are rolling down my sons face. Frankly, I'm incredulous. I ask my 15 year old who had just entered the kitchen why his brother is crying. He said he came in to find Oma popping 9 year old over the head. I'm even more dumbfounded. My dear sweet gentle mother popped my 9 year old over a ladle and over who gets to stir the pie batter. And they were really pulling hard at that ladle!
She did not pop him hard. I can spot crocodile tears a mile away.....but still........grrrr.....
How many kids do I have in this house? I thought just 2, no.......make that 3. I do have a spouse after all.........no, make that 4.........I need to include myself, I can be a kid in the worst way at times..........Shoot, and now I have to include my mother?...............Man, who's gonna raise us?.. this multigenerational family living all under one roof??? I guess we'll just have to figure it all out as we go along.
But anyway, in this instance I was all mom. And I did what any proper mom would do.....
I scolded them both and sent them to their respective rooms...........
...................just kidding..................sort of....
And I stirred the pumpkin pie batter all by myself, filled the pie shells, put it in the oven and baked those suckers without any intervention from anybody.
PS: I recounted that story during our Thanksgiving meal. We were all in stitches with laughter.......including my mother.....
PSS: And yes, we did all enjoy that pumpkin pie.
PSSS: Oh yes, and I just know remembered that my mother never did invite my children to help her bake anything when she lived next door. .......hmmmm