I am my mother's daughter
My mom is literally a part of me. You can't say that about many people, except relatives and organ donors. ~Carrie Latet
When we are younger, we always assume we know what's best for us -- often to our detriment. But, that's part of growing up and learning from our mistakes.
Now that I'm older, and supposedly "wiser," I find, as many often do, that my mom was right all along. And the scary thing is, I'm starting to think and act like her too.
I can't really pinpoint when it happened, that I transformed into my mother -- I only know that somehow it did.
Let me explain. Driving with my husband through town the other day, we passed the high school as kids were getting out and heading home, and my mother distinctly came out, loud and clear, from my own mouth as I found myself saying, "How could her mother let her out of the house dressed like that?" As soon as I said it, I clasped my hand over my mouth, and looked at my husband -- who, grinning ear to ear, replied, "Was that you or your mom?"
It happened again here in the office, when I had a reporter running late to a story and reminded her to take her time and drive carefully. Over her shoulder she said, "Yes, mom," with a smile.
Just this past weekend, we had friends coming in for the Labor Day holiday, and I spent all evening the night before they arrived hurriedly cleaning, scrubbing and putting things away to make sure our cabin was "presentable." I may have actually scared the dogs, who were not familiar with the type and intensity of militant cleaning that was going on.
And why was I cleaning like a crazed scullery maid? Because in my mind, I have visions of my mother and our impeccable home - not a spec of dust to be found, no streaks on the windows -- just a perfectly comfortable and amazingly clean home that always greeted our guests, whether they were the neighborhood kids covered in dirt and grass stains or men in three piece suits from my father's office.
The final straw came in a phone call with a relative who, just before ending the conversation, noted that I sounded "just like your mother."
And to be honest, I'm taking it as a compliment, because my mother is an amazing woman -- smart, witty and able to multi-task with the best of them. Now, if I could just figure out how to do everything she did -- running a household, dealing with kids and a husband, handling pets and taking care of finances -- and still do my day job, I'll have it made.