How far did you fall from the tree?

Are you becoming your mother?

When my daughter was in drivers ed. a police officer told stories of how often mothers caught speeding in the morning were in pajamas. As I put a sweatshirt over my night shirt and got into the car in my pajama pants and somewhat tame bed-head, I knew I better be careful on the road. Wearing my pajamas to take my son to school is one manner I didn’t get from my mother. While my mother did a lot of funny things, even embarrassing things, I don’t recall her driving us to school in pajamas.

There are many times though, especially lately, where I find myself pulling a “Jane.” Like when my daughter needed a black shawl for her show choir performance at church. I knew I had one, that was until an hour before she had to leave and I couldn’t find one anywhere. (I did find I have nine in other colors, but not a black one.) Like my mother, I went through my stash of sewing fabric, found some black fabric, cut it and surged the ends. With just minutes to spare, Karin left the house with a new shawl. My mother always seemed to find solutions.

When a friend died, instead of taking the typical food, casseroles and meat and cheese trays, over to the family’s home, I ordered decorated sugar cookies for the kids so they’d have something fun. As I dropped off the cookies I thought “now there’s a Jane moment.” She thinks of the little kids.

My all time favorite “I am my mother” moment though, is when I picked up the girls at a movie theater. There under the light pole against the building stood a teenage couple making out. (Do they call it that anymore?) In true “Jane” fashion, I informed the girls this behavior was completely unacceptable. Of course I gave the lecture to them about public display of affection as I pulled up along side the couple with the windows rolled down so my lecture could benefit them too, although I’m not sure they heard me. My mother did this when I was a teenager with my girlfriends along. We drove by a park where a couple lying on the ground were busy in a more-than-lip-locked-activity. Mom pulled up alongside the curb, rolled down the windows, and said something to the effect of “Look girls, that’s the way animals on the farm do it too.” I don’t remember her exact words, but I clearly remember the incident, and never did I dream I would have a similar opportunity to relive 20 years later. My mother knew how to capitalize on a teachable moment.

I have numerous incidents now where I realize “I am my mother.” At a women’s retreat the speaker, Dee Dee Raap, who happens to be a Joy Sparkler to me, had us all remembering and writing stories about our mothers. I could have written for hours. I’m fortunate to still have mine to guide me through the current stages of life with teenagers. Dee Dee says, “There are two groups of people, those who still have their mothers, and those who don’t.” If you fall into the second group, Dee Dee knows first hand what it’s like. She has a great book for you, “Dear Mom.” If you want to be able to look back and laugh and cry at your memories, even if your mom is still here, "Dear Mom" is a book to prompt those memories.

When my kids ask me “how did you know how to do that?” I often say, “I learned it from my mother.” I do credit my mother for the habit of losing Christmas gifts I’ve stashed and finding them months later too. When I’m a grandma, I’ll be like her too; buying a box of ice cream sandwiches because she was in the mood, eating two and driving over to our house to drop off the rest of the box for the grandkids. I think I’ll have one for breakfast. I wonder what our kids will do one day that will prompt them to think “I am my mother.”

© 2007 Anne Nelson, Joy Zone, LLC