Every now and then, something jumps up and smacks you in the face with the realization that you are, in fact, someone’s mother.
Oh sure, there’s the initial “taking babies home from the hospital” bit. But I know every single one of us has moments in the first several months that we think, “when are their parents going to show up and take them to their real home?” And there are big things, like taking a sick or hurt kid to the emergency room and having to be responsible and fill out forms and make decisions.
But sometimes it’s the small, unexpected things that make me sit up and realize I’m not a college kid anymore, I’m not footloose and fancy-free in my mid-twenties. I’m in my thirties, and I am someone’s mother. Mom. Like my mom.
This week, it happened when I sewed a patch on Daniel’s karate uniform. Doesn’t that just seem like something someone’s mom would do?
It happened when I held a couple of bobby pins in my mouth and tried to get Rebecca’s hair to stay put for her dance recital. Fine and wispy, just like me. Sorry, kid.
It happened when I spent most of said recital in the hallway with Ellie, who found the middle school auditorium entirely too hot, too crowded, and too loud. She had a point.
Anyone else have a funny “I’m actually someone’s parent!” moment? It’s not just me, right?
YES! When I was watching a sitcom a few months ago and I agreed with/identified with the DAD & not the high school daughter in the scene! I was blown away; kept thinking “OMG! I’m old! And I’m a such a mom!”
I was at Cold Stone Creamry today with my Mom and all three kids. Jackson had chocolate all over his face and it wasn’t coming off with a napkin. Without pause, I began to lick my thumb and run the ice cream off his face while he wiggled and complained. My Mom started laughing and said “you’re officially a Momy now!”
Oops! Rub, not run!
The one that comes to me right away is the day I heard myself saying, “Money doesn’t grow on trees you know.”
Hahaha, I totally identified with Marnie’s comment. My mom used to do the finger licking thing and now I do it too!! I found it gross when she cleaned my younger sisters’ runny noses too. I specifically remember one day when she asked me to do it because she could not reach my little sister from the front seat. The thoughts that crossed my mind are still clear, something along the lines “funny how she does not seem engrossed by this. Even though this is my lil sister, I get the gags. Guess you have to be a mom to be immune to it…”
Another thing now is that at 3.5 my daughters sometimes just “don’t get me.” You know when you make a remark that was supposed to be funny, or cherishing, or cheeky, and they just stare at you blankly or look away? That makes me feel so much like my mom, the distancing, the awkwardness…I think I am a much different mom than she was, but it makes my heart shrink to think they may one day become as distant as I am from my mom.
“Because I said so.” “Well, too bad.” Any time I use a parenting cliche. And realize that we have those cliche’s for a reason.
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Holding my boys’ skated-feet between my knees while tightening their laces this winter, which is totally evocative of my mum doing the same. And yes, wiping their snotty noses with my shirt because I have once again forgotten to bring kleenex…
It happened much more when they were younger — when you’d be telling of some saga and say ‘my son’ or ‘my daughter’ — I’d trip over the words and think wow, that sounds weird. Then at 4: You know how they can never actually begin their story until you acknowledge them — i.e. “Mama?”…. i reply ‘Whatta?” Mommy gets a like-minded ‘Whatty’… just like my Mom used to do. I do about all the other Mom-things already noted as well — they do quite slap you upside the head some days.