Why don’t dads get the adoration and irritation that moms get? Is it the estrogen molecules that cause us to butt heads? That we look at this woman who runs our lives for the first two decades and wonder, “Will I turn into THAT when I get older?”
0-12 years old: The woman was my bread and butter. She kissed the boo-boos, fed me, freaked out more than I did when my knee got crunched by a soccer teammate, always volunteered at school, tolerated piles of PTA-generated drama, always bought me books, and laughed at some incredibly dumb knock-knock jokes.
12-14 years old: She’s getting a little irritating what with always asking me what I did at school, who is it that I’m talking to on the phone, making sure that I’ve practiced for drill team. Whatever, Mom. She still buys me books.
14-17 years old: This woman has somehow morphed into a rule wielding, tight-fisted idiot that wants to cripple my social life, ban me from the telephone and radio forever, put me into ugly clothing and make me do nothing but take the dog for a walk and do my homework after I scrub the toilets.
Dad isn’t too cool either, with his “Go ask your mom” response anytime I ask him anything. It’s like he knows she’s going to say no. And it turned out they were serious when they said no driver’s license until your grades improve.
Her book buying ways continue, but Mom sucks.
17- 20 years old: They actually let me transfer out of high school into college early?! Wow.
My mother and I are able to have discussions about various topics, although boyfriends are an area to be avoided. She also makes the ultimate decision that I’m allowed to go to Mexico with my best friend and her parents, trusting that I will be responsible enough to handle any situations that occur. We’ve started swapping books back and forth.
20-25 years old: I moved out of the house. When my parents move 200 miles away, I *gasp* look forward to visiting them and hanging out when they come to town. My mother has become rather funny and insightful, and brings me bags full of books when she visits. She’s. . . human. And I’m not a completely insensitive beast towards her anymore. What the heck?
25-29 years old: Dude. It sucks that Mom lives so far away. AT&T thanks us for our business. She dumps 200+ romance novels on me during one visit. On this one, I’m not sure how happy I am.
29 -32 years old: Mom, I’m pregnant. Mom is struck dumb and silent over the phone lines, and then starts laughing. Mom stays with me for two weeks after first baby is born. I’m so incredibly relieved to have this very smart woman who did pretty well raising her kids here to help. I don’t take her suggestions as criticism, and she says I’m doing a danged good job of being a mom. I glow for days from this.
Mom, you’re going to be a grandma again. She says she’ll come stay with me for a while after the baby is born and she’s got a bunch of books for me. I can’t wait for her to get here.
And now, I’m stuck realizing that in thirty years, Killian and the as-yet-unnamed beastie to be born will be able to write this same journal post about me. Huh.
0-12 years old: The woman was my bread and butter. She kissed the boo-boos, fed me, freaked out more than I did when my knee got crunched by a soccer teammate, always volunteered at school, tolerated piles of PTA-generated drama, always bought me books, and laughed at some incredibly dumb knock-knock jokes.
12-14 years old: She’s getting a little irritating what with always asking me what I did at school, who is it that I’m talking to on the phone, making sure that I’ve practiced for drill team. Whatever, Mom. She still buys me books.
14-17 years old: This woman has somehow morphed into a rule wielding, tight-fisted idiot that wants to cripple my social life, ban me from the telephone and radio forever, put me into ugly clothing and make me do nothing but take the dog for a walk and do my homework after I scrub the toilets.
Dad isn’t too cool either, with his “Go ask your mom” response anytime I ask him anything. It’s like he knows she’s going to say no. And it turned out they were serious when they said no driver’s license until your grades improve.
Her book buying ways continue, but Mom sucks.
17- 20 years old: They actually let me transfer out of high school into college early?! Wow.
My mother and I are able to have discussions about various topics, although boyfriends are an area to be avoided. She also makes the ultimate decision that I’m allowed to go to Mexico with my best friend and her parents, trusting that I will be responsible enough to handle any situations that occur. We’ve started swapping books back and forth.
20-25 years old: I moved out of the house. When my parents move 200 miles away, I *gasp* look forward to visiting them and hanging out when they come to town. My mother has become rather funny and insightful, and brings me bags full of books when she visits. She’s. . . human. And I’m not a completely insensitive beast towards her anymore. What the heck?
25-29 years old: Dude. It sucks that Mom lives so far away. AT&T thanks us for our business. She dumps 200+ romance novels on me during one visit. On this one, I’m not sure how happy I am.
29 -32 years old: Mom, I’m pregnant. Mom is struck dumb and silent over the phone lines, and then starts laughing. Mom stays with me for two weeks after first baby is born. I’m so incredibly relieved to have this very smart woman who did pretty well raising her kids here to help. I don’t take her suggestions as criticism, and she says I’m doing a danged good job of being a mom. I glow for days from this.
Mom, you’re going to be a grandma again. She says she’ll come stay with me for a while after the baby is born and she’s got a bunch of books for me. I can’t wait for her to get here.
And now, I’m stuck realizing that in thirty years, Killian and the as-yet-unnamed beastie to be born will be able to write this same journal post about me. Huh.
5 comments:
That made me smile. :)
This was a very insightful look at how the views of motherhood change over time; my friends and I were just talking about this! I love the fact that my kids still think I'm cool =)
That was wonderful. And so true.
Bren, I love this post of yours. It's definitely insightful. Who'd have thought that the relationships with our mothers would become so wonderful?
That was great.
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