I love stories. I loved stories when I was a kid. My mom read stories to me all the time.

I always speak so highly of my mom because she's my partner in crime, and none of this would be possible without her love and support. Always have to make time for Mom.

I love grey. My mom told me that when I was younger, I would get mildly depressed when it was grey all the time. I'd be darker when it was dark out. But as an adult, I really love it.

My mom, raising seven children, was such a steady and firm influence. You did not mess around with my mom. Nobody in the neighborhood or whole town did. She had that steadiness and firmness but love at the same time.

I love pies of all types. I especially love rhubarb. I grew up with rhubarb growing on our property, and my mom would make rhubarb pies and jam. I have to admit, though, my earliest memories of rhubarb were not fond ones, but over time, I grew to love it.

I've been through periods where I haven't worked and would have paid someone to give me a job - I think that's really helped me feel very grateful to have a job, even when I have a call time of 3:30 A.M. My mom laughs when I text at 4 A.M saying, 'I love my job.'

Food brings back memories. I had a mom that wasn't a good cook, so I would eat my grandma's food. It was amazing because it brings back a time almost in Technicolor. I see her house, I see her stove; I think about what it felt like when I was sick, and it felt like love.

My mom used to make everything. She had a great garden and composted and made everything from scratch - peanut butter, bread, jelly, everything. I don't know how she did it because all those things take time and love and labour. I only do half the stuff she does - but there's still time.

I have the biggest sweet tooth! You name it, I will eat it. My all-time favorite is my mother's butter cake. Every time I go home, my mom will already have the cake made because I love it so much. This makes my siblings mad because they think she favors me. I don't care because she probably does!

My mom is just authentically herself all the time. She loves herself. She loves her sense of humor. She brings people in when she talks. She brings people in when she laughs. Watching her, I think that that's when I first learned and was encouraged to be myself and to sort of love and live in that way.

As others have recently suggested, the term 'gamer' is no longer useful as an identity because games are for everyone. These days, even my mom spends an inordinate amount of time gaming on her iPad. So I'll take a cue from my younger self and say I don't care about being a 'gamer,' but I sure do love video games.

I love New York. I first came here with my Mom when I was in 9th grade. I took the subway for the first time and the doors closed between me and my Mom, and I was so scared. I could see her through the window and I didn't know what to do. I got off at the next stop and she caught up to me, but I couldn't stop crying.

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