Oy Vey, I've Become My Mother

"Sometimes I open my mouth and

my mother comes out."

 

 

I catch myself at the most random times. Talking to the lady in front of me at the at the supermarket checkout. Telling a quick joke to the girl next to me in spin class. In conversation with my husband's coworkers at an evening event. Babbling with my 15 month old. Giving advice to my younger sister. Looking in the mirror in a dressing room...

 

I've become my mother.

 

My mom is amazing. She is beautiful and smart. She is caring and selfless and wonderful. She loves me, my sister, our husbands, and my child with all of her heart and would do absolutely anything for us. My mother is the kind of mother that other kids wished they had. She was home with us as we grew up. She sent us off to school in the morning with the perfectly packed lunch box, and was there to greet us in the afternoon with the well-balanced snack. She is the mom who handmade all of our Halloween costumes, and gave individually wrapped gifts to my entire elementary school. 

 

As I've grown older, I've become more observant of my mother. She's not just the "shoulda created Pinterest, so we coulda been millionaires" kind of mom. She's stylish and loves a good sale. Even if her best fashion advice is to "put a belt on," she always looks good. She's cultured and intelligent. She knows exactly when to use a Yiddish phrase and confuse the people around her. She's funny and witty and friendly. My mother is notorious for one-line jokes and a good metaphor. She can strike up conversation with the unlikeliest of conversational partners. Even if they aren't really interested in talking to her, she will leave the conversation with a one-liner and metaphor. She will then leave the situation still laughing to herself about the conversation and then call me to tell me about it. I will laugh, tell her she's crazy, and then end our conversation with a one-liner and metaphor.

 

I've become my mother.

 

In becoming a mother myself, I have realized how much I really am like her. I talk like her. I sound like her and sometimes even have the same facial expressions.  My priorities have shifted in life, and I find myself thinking like her. I am realizing so many of the things she has told me over the years are actually true (maybe she did know what she was talking about?!). 


It gets worse...I find myself being just like her in my relationship with Eliza. I use the same silly voice when playing and joking around with her. I attack her with kisses at the most random moments just like my mom used to do to me. I cook her favorite foods and let her eat ice cream, just like my mom always did. I am stern with her, making her wait her turn or share her toys, just like my mom did with me. I get frustrated, and sometimes need a breather, but always come back and tell her I love her just like my mom always did. 

 

I've really become my mother.

 

My mom hasn't just taught me how to be a woman and a good person. She has taught me how to be a mom. I find myself having moments with Eliza that bring me back to my own childhood. I look at the relationship I have with my mom now, and can only wish, hope, and pray that I can have that with Eliza later in life. I have learned so much of who I am and what I want from life from my mom. I am lucky and I am thankful. And maybe one day, I will advise Eliza to always wear a belt. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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