I just thought of something that gave me a little shudder.
I hope you all have had a great Labor Day weekend. Mine was going rather well until something crossed my mind that actually caused shock…
All of us go through self-revelatory experiences at some point in life. It is a necessary occurrence from time to time on the pathway to personal growth. But, what I am coming to find out more and more lately about myself is beginning to astound me. I think I am becoming more like…my mother!
Don't get me wrong. My mom is a nice lady. She's very wise and has been a great friend to me ever since I can remember. But there's one thing we have never ever agreed on. Ever.
It all started back in fourth grade. One day my mom told me that a black and yellow sweater with large horizontal stripes (like a bumble bee) matched some tiny checkered black and white pants. Something inside me did not feel right about that. Not at all. But, my mother assured me that it did indeed match and I looked great! So, off I went to school. Unfortunately, none of the other kids agreed with my mother. To this day, I believe that is what caused my repugnance for all things prints and pleats and my affinity for safe tops, denim pants and matching Reeboks. To her credit, I'm certain that ensemble would have worked in a corporate setting. Not so much at Bancroft Elementary School.
And yet, here I am knitting some quirky, mixed-matched legwarmers for my own daughter.
What nerve, right?!
My mom also likes multi-colored pigtail barrettes and mixed-matched socks (preferably with stripes)…a sort of Pippi Longstockings meets Punky Brewster look.
Well, I suppose there is nothing to be done about it. Sigh. I will be finishing this one up shortly and deciding whether I will put some hearts on the knees for added knee protection, added strength, added cute factor and an extra special dose of silly mom love.
Again. Why am I doing this to my child?
I'll tell you why. Because I am becoming my mother.
When I look at how rough and tumble Girl Child is even after I have put a dress on her…why there is always one less hair bow in her hair when she comes home after school…why there are holes in the knees of her stockings and jeans well before I'm ready to do more shopping…why her sneakers are worn out after only two weeks of use, I can see it now. It's like looking at me and my own mother through a stained glass.
Suddenly, I have a strange urge to shout, “My eyes!! My eyes!!” Lol!
Happy Birthday to my mom!