It has finally happened.
I have become my mother.
Every daughter has that fear and makes a pact with their sister/best friend/cousin/daughter to inform us of that moment so we can take stalk of our lives and figure out how to correct the anomaly from happening. Unfortunately for me, no one told me. I had to discover this for myself in public. So this is an open letter to my Sister and Daughter.
Dear Sister and ChatterBox,
Don’t get me wrong, my mom is awesome. She does things that we all tease about and accuse her of being crazy, but I know you do the same to your mom. That is how daughters roll. It is called evolution. Then one day it happens to us. We turn into our mothers. We hear her words in our words, we see her figure in our figure, we notice her OCD tendencies in our OCD tendencies and we realize we married our fathers.
Thanks (for nothing!)
I love you
Yes, my parents call me Skichucky. Tease me, I dare you.
One day I was sitting in the car with my mom and sister and mom said something. I can’t recall what it was, but I said to her, “Mom, remember when you said we were to tell you when you started becoming Grandma? Well, it’s happening.”
Mom replied with, “OMG (or something worse, I can’t remember) you are right! I do sound like my mother!!!!!”
She took immediate action to alter her behaviour pattern, every now and then it comes back. I like to think of it as a birthright. It makes me feel better calling it a birthright so stop hassling me already. Your turn is coming, I promise you.
I use to work in the family business. One day my mom came into the office and she was limping.
Me: Mom? OMG Mom what happened???
Mom: What are you talking about?
Me: Mom! You are limping!!
We looked at her feet and noticed she was wearing two completely different shoes. One Navy and one Black. The Navy shoe had a heel and the Black shoe was a ballerina flat.
Of course she was limping. You try walking in two different heel sizes and see what happens!!
In my infinite wisdom of 34, I said “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM How could you leave the house like that???? I am clearing you appointments and you are staying in the office today unless you are going home to change! GEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE MOM!!!”
I am sorry I criticized you and judged you.
Please forgive me.
Yesterday I went for a run. I have two different pairs of running shoes. Both are Adidas Gel 4, both have the same lacing configuration, yet each pair is a different colour. I rotate my shoes because I fear plantar fasciitis. I carefully monitor the mileage on my shoes and get new ones when they wear out. I rotate through the shoes (every run) to give each shoe the opportunity to gain the same mileage as the other. They wear out at the same rate and my feet are happy campers.
As of late, I have had a lot on my mind. I have a heavy course load because one of the projects is not pretend it is real life. I am focusing on it and think about it lots because detail will be paramount in the execution of this project. I am excited about it, but it is scary as well. I have not been sleeping well and I think the fatigue from driving home after the race in Calgary is still affecting me. I also have that tumour annoyance in my brain.
Okay…Okay…All of these are excuses.
If I turned on the light in the hallway to grab my shoes this wouldn’t have happened:
I didn’t notice it until my 5th hill climb. Obviously I don’t look at my feet when I run.
This is what I learned from yesterday’s shoe episode:
- If you can’t dress yourself, hire a Lady’s Maid (Downton Abbey taught me that)
- If someone asks about the separate shoes, lie and say it is a training technique.
- Stay focused on the task at hand. Think about the project while running. That is when you do your best thinking.
- Start buying the same colour shoes and label them on the INSIDE
- Take a picture and brag about your forgetfulness before anyone can tease you first.
Let’s get matching Lady’s Maids for us.
Then let’s go shoe shopping.