I’m going to be a mother-in-law.  Ouch that hurts to say out loud.

 My step-son proposed to his girlfriend about a week & a half ago and the smart girl said Ask me again when you’ve got a ring.  And my boy went to the mall the next day and bought her a cute little engagement ring!  Of course he couldn’t wait to give it to her he had to give it to her then and there. 

So they’re officially engaged.    He’s 22 and she just turned 18.  God help them.  He’s on his way into to the Los Angeles PD and I think this will be good for the both of them, growing up in the life of the PD instead of him being in it then taking a bride.    And, no, she’s not pregnant.  Actually she’s a senior in high school right now.  So that means its going to be a long engagement.  They promised not to make me a grandma for at least another four-five years.  God I hope they keep their word.  I’m having a hard time accepting that I’ll be a *gulp* mother-in-law. 

She’s a great girl.  I’ve known my step-son for ten years and have seen him grow up from a Lego obsessed geek to a total horn dog.  Which means I’ve seen plenty of chicks come and go over the years, but none of them stand out…wait…there was this one fat white chick that had herself DRAPED over him at The Snitch’s birthday party and had NO respect for MY mother-in-law being there.  Thankfully that ho is gone.  But other than here the girls he’s brought around have all been a week to a month relationship and nothing more.   My new daughter *lol* he’s waited for her for almost two years to turn eighteen, that’s when her mom said he could date her.  So that tells me something.

So God help us turn him into a great young man and a respectful husband and pray, with me, that they don’t make us grandparents before they’re married.   Seriously.

I had another post in mind but it was not a happy one, I decided to let the anger and sadness go and not let other people bring me down, especially this time of year.  So instead let me talk to you about our family tradition.

My maternal grandma just turned sixty-seven years old this past September.   She married my grandpa when she was fifteen years old.  Being a white woman my grandma learned to cook all the things her husband enjoyed by spending time with her mother-in-law.  One of the things her mother-in-law taught her to make were tamales.  

 Even though my grandpa has been gone for many many years she continued to make them each Christmas.  And has been doing so for over forty years.

The weekend before Christmas my grandma starts cooking and prepping all that is needed to produce our family dinner on Christmas Eve.   The next day my mom, sister, a few friends and aunts, in the past, have all gathered at grandma’s house to spend the day spreading the masa on the corn husks while grandma fills them with meat and puts them to the side. 

This is an all day event.  We spend HOURS spreading, talking, laughing, snacking, drinking, gossiping and just hanging out together.  Even my sister, who doesn’t eat tamales, will spend the day helping us because its just what we do.  While we’re doing this my dad, being the wonderful man he is, will drop in with snacks of chocolate, cheese, crackers and salami.  He’ll bring some beer and wine for us and check to see if we need anything else.  

Since this is an all day process and my grandmother is no longer the twenty-something, or hell even the forty-something, she use to be standing and working with her hands for hours take a serious toll on her arthritic self.  Last year was hard for her and she said she didn’t know how much longer she could continue making tamales.

What?!  Not having Gma K’s tamales on Christmas Eve is like a BBQ at our house without beer!  Unheard of!   So what did I do?  I volunteered to take over the tamale making for our family. 

Yikes.

Last year I inherited all of grandma’s tamale pots and pans.  That in itself is a treasure, they’re really old.  Besides do you know how expensive it is to buy HUGE ASS pots these days??   So I scored there.  I did a small trial run, this past March, with grandma teaching me.  I made a small batch to take to Mexico with us when my friends came down.  And they’re still alive.

This season I’m doing the cooking and prepping all by myself.  Last night I went out to buy twenty-five pounds of pork roast* to start cooking it this Friday.   I’ll cook, cool and hand shred twenty-five pounds of meat all by myself.  I’ll wash and dry the husks that night.  Then come early Saturday morning I’ll go pick up grandma so she can walk me through the process of making the chili by hand.

This is what I’ve been waiting for because my grandma doesn’t have her recipe written down anywhere.  My great-grandmother taught her this many moons ago and its been done by memory all these years.   I’m so excited and nervous at the same time.  I will be writing it down and filing it.  I don’t want to lose this family tradition.  I’m only thirty-four years old, I see my girls and I doing this for many years to come.  One day I hope to pass this family tradition, and recipe, down to my girls or grandchildren.  

Wish me luck! 

*Last night I went to buy the twenty-five pounds of meat needed for the tamales.  I get it home and wrestle it into our freezer.  I called my grandma to let her know I picked up the meat but there was no answer and I forgot to call her back.  We’re relaxing and I get a call from grandma.  She and my mom just let the market with…can you guess?   Twenty-five pounds of meat!   LMAO I told her I picked it up and there is NO more room in my freezer for it.  We thought we could put it in my sister’s freezer and use it to make pozole  for New Year’s Eve.  Come to find out my sister, who NEVER has a full freezer just bought $126 worth of groceries that day and hasn’t room to put twenty-five pounds of ANYTHING in her freezer.   My mom had to take her back to the market to return all that meat.  lol   Thanks for the help, Grandma, but next year just write me a check if you want to contribute.