Bookgirl is Begging the Question 3

Sorry for the late posting today. Technical diffculties...

So as Polly mentioned, I'm taking over some of the Wednesday duties around here. Partially because I like the potential zaniness of the Wednesday question. Partially because I like having you all subject to my whims. I've always wanted minions. Ever since I was a little girl and Mr. Rogers used to sing that song... "Won't you be, won't you be, please won't you be my minions?" But I digress...

(By the way, if the whole "minion" thing pissed you off, and you're tempted to not answer, do it for Polly. She so loves audience participation. And you know what they say. "If Polly ain't happy, ain't nobody happy...")

So back to the question. Sort of. I have this magnet on my fridge that says, "Despite years of personal development, she still turned into her mother." As an aside, if you have that fridge magnet, for the love of all that is holy, take it down before your mom visits. She will NOT be amused.

 

So for real now, the question...

For good or for bad, how have you turned into your mother?

My mother is a 1950s housewive. That's not a euphism. She really is. Dad came home from the Korean War, mom quit her job at the curtain factory, and they settled into wedded bliss and started popping out little brown-haired, brown-eyed girls. (For the record, that does not make me remarkably well-preserved for my age. Once they started making those little girls, they forgot to stop, and I came along 20 years later.) Also, mom is Catholic. Very, very Catholic. Put those two together, and you get a woman who can wield guilt and manipulation like a scalpel. Her favorite was, after a half hour of arguing over whether or not I was allowed to do something, throwing up her hands and saying, "Do what you want. You're going to anyway." Occasionally that would backfire, and teenage Bookgirl would be out the door like she was on fire, headed to Diosa or Polly's house. But mostly, that one statement, in the right inflection, could rob the plan of any fun, and guilt would keep me home.

I've recently come to realize that I have learned that art at the knee of the master. And I'm not proud of this, but I'm good. Very, very good. My older sister misunderstood and thought I was trying to guilt her into something last week, and I decided to not set her straight. Because I figure that I've done it enough times when I didn't get called out for it that even though this wasn't one of them, I probably had it coming.

So chime in everyone. How have you turned into your mom? Come on, answer. It's the right thing to do. Angels will smile, abandoned kittens will find homes, and you'll make your mama proud...

Comments

[Polly]

I just want quiet. Not fairness, justice, or world peace. Just quiet. I understand that other things are more important, I just don't care. I want it quiet. Because silence is golden.

[The Dol]

I think I give my daughter the same "Oh *hell* no" look when I am not pleased with her behavior. I don't spank, though, and my mom could open up a can o' whoop-ass with the best of 'em.

[Pandora]

The only way that I have turned into my mother, so far, is that I can knock back half a bottle of wine and look adorable in the process.

[Diosa]

I'm extremely opinionated and can be very loud, especially when I laugh.

[Bookgirl]

Pol, how can you crave quiet and still choose me for your best friend? Unless my volume is a non-issue, since, you know, it's not your responsibility to do anything about it...

Dol, I know that look. When I'm pissed at Ella, I tell her, "Look at my mad eyes. Do I look like I'm joking?!?!"

Pandora, I believe you must be adorable under any circumstances.

Di, and those are two of the things I love most about you...

[Alice]

I'm with Dol and Pandora - I can give "the look" like my Mom but unlike her I don't open up a can of anything except spaghettios and I can put away some serious booze.

My Mom would insist that I will become just like her as she became just like her mother, which is totally true, and I'm not so scared of that...

[Equipoise]

Growing up my Mom always had a way of doing things. If you cleaned the kitchen, you'd better do it "right" (her way). Once I cleaned the kitchen as a surprise and she came in and thanked me and then proceeded to pick out the things that weren't done quite right. Needless to say, I never surprised her again.

Years later, I am that same perfectionist. As a wife, I've learned that I just have to let some things go if I want any help. But there she is, in the back of my head, screaming, "NO!!! That is NOT the way you fold towels!", while I calmly say aloud "Thank you, Love. I appreciate your help"...and then refold them later on.

[The Model]

I think maybe every mom has The Look (eyebrows raised, heavy eye contact, like oh-no-you-di'int!), and I'm sure mine is similar to my mother's. Another way I'm like her is that I'm free and easy with "I love you"s. I think I tell my kids I love them about a zillion times a day. I'm sure this will embarrass them one day.

I don't look like her much (I'm blonde/blue, she's brunette/hazel; different face shapes and body types; etc), but we're the exact same height and have the same high cheek bones, and the same goofy sense of humor. It also seems that as time goes by, I'm adopting more and more of her old crunchy granola bohemian ways.

One thing I definitely got from my mom is my lack of any inclination to do any household chores. Really, I could use someone to just follow me around all day and pick up after me. I'm trying to train the children, but it seems they require the same treatment. Imagine that.

[Bookgirl]

Equipoise, ah, yes. I know that feeling well. I reached a point where I refused to help my father with anything, because he was going to criticize. I was going to feel unappreciated. We were going to argue. I'm determined to not be that person. Even if I'm twitching a little, and I have to bite my tongue until it bleeds to keep from screaming, "The little pot goes INSIDE the big pot!! How can you not SEE that?!?!"

Model, I grew up with tons of affection too, and it's the best thing my parents ever could have done for me. As an adult, I hug and kiss every one of my friends and family, every time I see them. And it's rare for me to end any non-business-related phone call without saying, "Bye, love you!" I can't imagine having a day go by without telling someone I love them.

As for the cleaning thing, my apartment looks like God just threw up. At all times. Now that I'm once again employed, I have come up with a solution. I will do the picking up. But reluctantly, and frantically, in the middle of the night, and only because I hired a cleaning lady to come in the next day, and she can't clean unless I tidy. That's the only way to get me to pick up. I let the cleaning lady go for 9 months as a cost-saving measure, and my apartment looked like Fallujah. Without that accountability, I am dead in the water.

[The Dol]

Oh, The Model reminds me that I inherited my mother's political leanings, too. In fact, it came from my grandmother. They both strongly disliked Republican politicians, as do I, and there seems to be an inherited trait for talking (sometimes shouting) at the television when politicians are on the air.

[Curls]

My mother was very submissive to my father, she can’t make a decision and I don’t remember a day when a perfect home cooked dinner was not on the table when my father got home. That might be the exact opposite of who I am!!! My mom also kissed me, hugged me, told me she loved me a thousand times a day, she was class mom, made crafts with me, and made my Barbie dolls special dresses while I was in school. She still calls me every day and my children literally run and jump on top of her when they see her. I think I have turned out like my mom in this way. Lots of kisses, lots of hugs, the difference is frozen nuggets for the kids, and many nights my husband is "on his own for dinner".