That's right folks.
You heard it here first. I am MY mother.
Dear Planet Earth help us. (I kid Mom.)
I've suspected for about a year that I was slowly transforming into someone else. Someone that many doors become slammed on, fingers pointed at for reasons of frustrated tears, eye rolling over mundane things said by me. How could I evoke eye rolling because of the awesomeness of the words that come out of my mouth??? HOW?
And then it hit me.
While on a little excursion with my mother, my many jabs at how she was turning into her mother triggered some little reality inside my noggin that said...."Ding, dong...guess who YOU are?"
I argued with Reality for a bit.
Eekk....that's just what my mother said about her not being her mother.
I started going through some mental list of possible offenses.
1. When we are driving I talk to my mother like her license should be taken away.
Just like she does about Grandma Rambler...(well in my mothers defense...G.Rambler is effing scary to drive with..but back to my point)
2. My level of patience?
Is ALL her. With a little bit of my laid back father poking through. But he never had a chance against her. Anxiety and paranoia always kick calm cool & collected to the side on occasion. She has absolutely NO patience with my grandmother. Zilch. It's thin already when she knows they will be in each others presence.
3. I started carrying a purse....the mommy purse....loaded with work things, me things, receipts of stores from 2 weeks ago, Lil Rambler stuff....
Envision my eyes rolling at my mother while she digs for something for someone to give them anything they might need.
Just like she does with her mother.
4. I started napping when I had a moment to read a magazine on the couch.
5. The kitchen became a place to be excited about rather than afraid.
6-1000.Doing laundry, picking up toys, going grocery shopping, planning doctor and dentist visits, teaching a little one to pick up after themselves, being a hairstylist.
All of this....is/was everything my mother does/did.
And now, it's my turn.
So, I told my mother in mock desperation with how I had been pushed off the edge by my old self into the depths of this new person who so closely resembled her. (Do you hear the drama here people?)
She listened patiently (as all mothers do, to ranting lunatic 30 something daughters), and let me hem and haw. I ended my speech of pain and torture and told her this was way too soon. She told me to accept it...as she enjoyed this new version of a mini-her.
So all I could do to 'fight' back with was....
if I was her....then she was her mother.
(Insert evil laughter)
But seriously folks, everyday I feel myself changing, moving forward in this journey of my life, becoming a better version of the person I was yesterday. And if it means I am similar to the woman who birthed me. Life will be good.
(Just don't tell my mother I said I enjoy being like her....because I will deny deny deny.)
Monday, October 26, 2009
That's right folks.