Monday, July 23, 2007

Sure Signs You're Not as Far From the Tree as You'd Like to Think

It’s Monday. It’s raining buckets here. We’ve dragged ourselves to the computer. Donna just went to the kitchen, fixed a cup of coffee, left it on the counter, went back to the desk and sat down. It took a few moments for her to figure out what was wrong with this picture. Yeah, Monday’s are a real mother. . .

And forgetting what you got up expressly to do—that’s something our mothers did, and we’d roll our eyes and think, “Dag, what’s wrong with her?” Except now it’s you, and you don’t know when that happened and you swear you just need a vacation. . . Do not stress. This is part of a natural evolution. The good news—It’s out of the closet, so we’re not losing our minds in silence. Forgetfulness, along with the sudden appearance of a soul patch and the disappearance of our waistlines, indicate that whether we have children or not, we are in the process of morphing into our mothers.

For those of you under thirty, this will be like trying to interpret ancient cave drawings. Interesting to look at, but totally meaningless in your world. Be patient—your day is coming. If you’re past the big three-o but not yet forty, you'll smirk and say "that will never happen to me!" Between forty and fifty more of these than you want to admit will apply. And beyond the half century mark, you will find great comfort and satisfaction in the realization that you're not the only one!

So when you wake up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath because you suddenly realize.... Aaaargh! I'm Becoming My Mother!!! Try to stay calm. Do not tear your hair out---it's probably thinning anyway.(Of course, now there's Rogaine.)

But this is not the end of the world (It happened to your own mother and her mother and her mother and...), just the beginning of a new era!

Here's a prayer to see you through.

...Grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change (not that I haven't tried), the strength to run screaming from the things I can and the wisdom to keep laughing, because nobody likes a joyless old heifer.

And here are some signposts along the way. We started this list way back when we were writing Far From the Tree and just found it in the abyss that is the “Future Projects” file in our computer.

We’ll be posting more on what we’re calling Mother Mondays. Here goes:

1) What you want instead of a vodka shot is a nice cup of herb tea.

2) The "s" word you use to describe shoes is “sensible”, not “sexy”.

3) The furry food in your refrigerator really disgusts you.

4) You hear yourself say, "How can anybody dance to this?"

5) It's that special night, the one you've been planning for, but you wear galoshes a storm coat, muffler and hat with that slinky little black dress because, after all, it is snowing.

6) It's midnight on Saturday night and what you really want to do is go home to bed...to sleep.

7) Your knees announce that you're going to sit down

8) The little girl you used to baby sit is on her second divorce.

9) You take that big slice of Bermuda onion off the burger because the indigestion it will cause won't be worth it.

10) Even the thought of brushing your teeth in cold water causes pain.

11) You change the sheets every week, on schedule.

12) You can't stand fingerprints and toothpaste spatters on the bathroom fixtures.

13) You actually look forward to family gatherings and remember that Uncle Joe's second wife Ida can only hear out of one ear.

14) Being regular isn't the opposite of being 'late', so the Correctol is in the medicine chest right there next to the Midol.

15) Fiber does not refer to linen or silk.

Tune in next Monday for more…

Labels: , , , , ,

posted by DeBerry and Grant at 11:02 AM

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh, my broken branch of the family tree falls far closer to my mom's branch than I'd like to admit. I find myself lately waking in the middle of the night. My mind starts to wander ... and then wonder ... and then worry. I promise myself not to look at the clock [this will only enable the waking state of mind(lessness?)] -- and I do not cheat and peek at the arms of my glow-in-the-dark, wind-up alarm clock, but even eyes closed or averted, I still toss and turn. My mother and I share this bit of neurosis. Rather than fight it (my sister and I used to have a pact -- "If I ever act like THAT, like HER, shoot me"!!), well, I don't exactly embrace it, but I try to accept that this is part of who I am and let it go. Of course, I don't always fall back to sleep. But the sleeplessness doesn't turn to frustration and follow me throughout the next day (or more). "God, I'm so much like Mom," I think at 3 a.m., and then I deep breathe and try to meditate -- so much not like my mom -- and deal with it in my very own, non-Mom-like way. Yes, we are like "Mom," and we also can choose to deal with that in our own very Self-like way. Sometimes it's worth immersing ourselves in it, and at other times, it's worthwhile to reappropriate the experience. And to know the difference, well, that must be divine! I'd welcome any wisdom, daughters :O)

-- Darlene

9:29 PM  
Blogger Ingrid said...

I am screaming with laughter here! So far so good from the looks of it i still have a little ways to go before I am my mother.

4:31 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

http://sisterstalk.com/blackblogs/links.php
Blog search directory Promote Your Blog


Literature Blogs - Blog Top Sites