As you loyal readers know my mom hit the road. She met up with her friend Jayme, who literally flew the coop, in Indiana for a weekend of camping. I can only imagine there was much oohing and ahhing over the beautiful trees, lots of moderately well focused pictures, and general frolicking going on. Mom's not really a camper. She loves her camper because she loves kitsch and decorating, not necessarily cause she's pumped to sleep amongst critters without a decent shower. I can't blame her a bit. I am impressed with her gumption at camping in October. Since mom is sure to return, she asked the sisters and I to fill in. It seems she saved the best for last.
Since I'm the last, it gave me a little extra time to decide what to write about. Then I got to thinking....this spring I followed my mom and dad into church. On the way up to the door mom looked over at me and asked me to trade her scarves because mine was cuter than hers. Yup, sweet deal right? "Can I trade you so I look better than you?"...but I did trade her. We continued on inside and Zac and I grabbed a coffee and made our way into the sanctuary. As I stood there, coffee in hand, next to my big husband, with my nails painted, in my cardigan and scarf and cute jeans and I quickly realized....I am my mom!
It's not just that I look like her, that I have her eyes and a majority of her nose. (But definitely not her legs, thanks dad. I am Stu Fox when I wear shorts I swear. I even wore a pair of his work shorts and boots and his tool belt and went out on Halloween as Stu Fox. Ridiculous right?)
Ma in High school
It's that I have her mannerisms and her patterns of speech. I make the same expressions and the same hand movements that are absolutely necessary for us to be able to carry on a conversation.
We even share a birthday (also shared by my mom's twin Jackie and my dad's sister Jennifer).
I see it happening more each day. I see how I insist on constantly being busy. I feel that EVERY space needs to be decorated. I rearrange things for no good reason. I buy every piece of chippy painted anything that's a good deal, not because I need it or have anything to do with it....but because for that price, I can't afford not to buy 8 doors, 8 windows, 2 benches, a cabinet, 8 chairs, and a table (thank you Pettyjohn auction). I am ram-y, impatient, and like to talk a mile a minute. I even work in such a frenzy around the house that there is no time to close the cabinet doors. And not so oddly, I think things need to be neat and orderly to the point of organizing my closet in rainbow order. And the worst part is, I LIKE it.
I BLAME MOM! She ruined us. Sisters you know what I'm talking about. She used to tell us all the time "you live like hogs! I hate to think what your houses will look like when you grow up!"
She also cursed us with the desire to narrate our lives with songs (ie: the good morning song, the sleepy and tired song, etc.), the ability mock each other mercilessly, laugh until we cry or pee our pants and love things that are ugly to the point of being adorable. Case in point..
My mom is really something else. God love the lady, she can't take a decent picture to save her life. For example....
But she sure knows how to redeem herself with a picture like this...
Hilarious! I know! I nearly cried laughing at it. That face is pure joy!
What can I say, she gets it honest...oh great grandma....
My mom is why I'm a little crazy, but I wouldn't change it. She's also the reason why I'm funny, and determined, and able. She's the reason why I can cook, and clean, and decorate. My mom shaped me, (I just wish she'd take a little more off my hips and ass) and for that reason I love her super bad! It's also why I am her favorite daughter and she is my favorite mom (just don't tell my mother-in-law).
ps....if I am your favorite, well heck, even if I'm not, pleae come visit me over at my blog, Little Trailer, Big People.
what I'm thankful for:
1. flirty babies
2. husbands that treat their wives like gold
(thanks husband, and brothers-in-law)
3. family that spends time together because they WANT to
4. meatloaf (from Zac, my husband)