OMG! I’m Turning Into My Mother!
There is a moment (all it takes is just one) when you realize that you are turning into your mother. Sometimes its the “because I said so” line or the first, middle, and last name usage when you mean business that gives it away. You stand there, your life flashing before your eyes, and you mouth the words “Oh my God…I sound like my mother!” The sudden “because I said so” turns into “do what you want” as an attempt to be the complete opposite from the matriarch of the family, but there’s no turning back. It’s too late.
I’m not quite sure when it happened, the actual turning into my mom, but it became clear one night while we were watching a mystery TV show and I figured out the end in the first 5 minutes. My husband looked in my direction and said “Thanks a lot, Ruth. You are a ruiner.” He said it in jest, but it stung a little bit as I cringed. I realized that it had happened–I was turning into my mother.
It is a natural progression to inherit some of those general mother-like tendencies. In my case, I have the tendency to plan (and plan again), figure out a movie/TV show ending with in the first 5 minutes, drink hot tea (even in the summer time), always be right (that’s a plus), and have an odd love affair with John Meyer (but who doesn’t). Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with my mother. She’s actually the nicest most sweetest person ever in the history of the planet Earth. I mean, ok, perhaps her road rage may deserve a side-eye every now and again, but lets face it–slamming on brakes, old people driving (who can barely see over the steering wheel), and talking on the phone in the fast lane would drive anyone crazy. And, ok, so her knack for cooking the best mac & cheese in the world might be a tad bit annoying when your children say at your house, 500 miles away after you have slaved in the kitchen to create a delicious comfort food “MaMa’s macaroni and cheese is waaaaay better than yours Mommy.” Aside from that, turning into my mother isn’t such a bad thing after all.
You have to laugh at it really, the art of evolving into the thing you said you would never ever become. Some of us are stronger than others and we can fight off the inevitable, but for the 99.9% of us we just simply aren’t that strong. I realized (after the I-am-my-mother aha moment) that as a mother, I have the most influential job in the world. It’s not the rappers, singers, reality TV personalities, models, pro athletes, or even the President–it’s me (and the husband…can’t leave him out). The things we as mothers say, do, believe, enjoy, dislike, and explore will forever leave a lasting impression on our children–whether they know it or not. Knowing that, we have to become more conscious of the decisions we make. How we talk to our daughters about their bodies shapes their opinions. How we speak to our sons about what we feel a man is/should be, shapes their behavior. How we interact with our baby daddy’s/husbands/boyfriends/girlfriends gives them a lifelong snapshot of what a relationship should be. We are the glue that holds things together (no doubt about that), but more importantly we are the strongest influence on the blank slate of life we have been left to care for. Be careful what you choose to write on it.
I can’t say that being more and more like my mother is disturbing. It isn’t. Personally, I think I am the best blend between both of my parents, but the older I get the more old Ruthie seems to poke out in my personality–and that is ok by me. It makes me a better mother, a better friend, and an all around better me. Who can argue with that (she wouldn’t…I’m sure)?