I think almost every woman at some point (but most likely during their teenage years) experienced the same fear: that one day, she would turn into her mother. If they don’t, they’re either a freak an angel from God, or just deluding themselves. I, ladies and gentlemen, am living that teenage nightmare.
I think it’s one of those things where my awareness of it grew slowly. Around my Senior year of college, I started noticing some strong traits pop into my daily life. As I became a full-fledged adult, with a husband and a home, the signs are there too strongly to ignore. In many ways, I have become my mother.
Luckily, many of my memories of growing up with my Mom are good ones. She’s quirky, funny, and occasionally strong-willed (yes, this is code for stubborn). Some of the strongest traits I think of when I think about my Mom are:
*She talks to animals–any animal.
*She leaves stuff around the house, and SWEARS that she was coming back to get it…eventually.
*She’ll fish almost anything out of the garbage because it is recyclable.
*She was suspiciously willing to watch a kid’s movie much more readily than any adult movie.
*She would bounce around the house.
*She would randomly bust out in song (usually while bouncing around the house).
*She had a propensity for being snuggly, until it annoyed you.
*She would pour herself the tiniest glass of milk…and still not finish it.
The list could go on. And just how many of these traits do I share with my mother?? ALL of them. Sigh. At least I got the fun traits, right?