3 Generations Alike

I've been slacking on my writing over the past week or so. That I can attribute to the craziness of my schedule these next 58 days (countdown until the wedding!!) and everything else going on however, no excuses, I need to get back on track with my writing. So here it goes.

Last weekend, my family was in town to celebrate my brother graduating from college and my cousins Confirmation so I got a chance to spend time with them. Friday night when my Dad, Mom, and sister arrived my Mom was downstairs in my Grandma's kitchen coloring her hair back to her normal color after my Grandma accidentally used the dark brown hair coloring on herself. I stood there in the kitchen talking to my Mom and Grandma and we found ourselves laughing for no apparent reason. Anyone who is close to us knows that happens quite often. Just the site of my Grandma's hair half dark brown and dark blonde with my Mom playing hair stylist and me standing there vowing to not get as crazy as the two of them was enough to make anyone giggle a little. However, after living above my Grandma (again) for the past 1 year and some odd months, I see ways that she and I are more and more alike which makes me see that I am more like my Mom and she is like her Mother. It is a never ending circle of crazy ladies.

I cannot lie and say I am grateful for all of the traits I am similar to my Mom & Grandma. For one, they are both so stubborn - Mom less than Grandma because she, like me, vowed not to be "as bad" as her Mom. I definitely got the stubbornness and I can say that if it were not for my very patient and loving fiancé I don't know that I would have been able to break this trait of mine as much as I have, although it still needs work. Moms' stubbornness is apparent when she refuses to admit when something is wrong or unnecessary until I or someone else has confronted her over and over. Grandma's stubbornness can be seen in her more and more every day as she refuses to stop doing or minimize how often she takes on certain tasks that her body should not be doing like she used to be able to do. For example, not asking for anyone's help and bringing a very heavy wooden bench up from the basement to the backyard. I think it is safe to say that I have pestered about that enough that she will never take on that feat alone again. My stubbornness shows when I take on too many tasks and one and refuse to admit I am stressed out or overwhelmed. It can also come out when I have a hard time admitting I was wrong about an argument. Although this is one of our weaknesses that we all have gotten from one another, it also can be a strength of ours. If my Mom had not been stubborn and fought with her heart doctor that he had misdiagnosed her than she may not have had her open-heart surgery and may not be here with us today. Being stubborn keeps my eighty-year old Grandma looking nothing like an eighty-year old Grandma, but instead a vibrant young woman who never gives up. And me, well, I don't give up. I am always trying new things, accepting challenges, and looking for my next adventure. So I guess I take back the first sentence I wrote in this paragraph...I am grateful for this trait and for my almost husband for putting up with it.

A large part of this blog and hopefully book is to discover more about myself - who I am, where I came from, and why I am the woman I am. It is also to encourage women to take a closer look at the women in their lives, whether it's their mother, grandma, friend, sister or aunt. All of those women can be very influential to whom we become and it's important to understand that and let them know we are thankful to have them in our lives.

Tomorrow I will be making my way home for the weekend to watch my little sister graduate from 8th grade. I still haven't come to terms with the fact that she will be a high school freshman next year and my little brother is a college graduate. When did they stop being little? Especially since I still feel little. I'm sure I will have a lot of thoughts to share as the weekend progresses. I can already feel the tear building picturing Emmy in a cap and gown...tears of pride and love of course! Let the weekend begin...

Mother's Day

My Mother-in-law (to be), Donny, Me and my Mom

Yesterday was Mother's Day, as you well know. Although I did not have the opportunity to write about how important that day is yesterday, I would like to take the time to do so now.

The picture I have chosen to share shows two women who mean more than words can say to Donny & I because they are our Moms. Mother's Day is the one day of 365 days that we are supposed to celebrate our mothers and all of the women in our lives who love and care for us. We buy them flowers, cards and candy, bring them breakfast in bed, grill out, and shop or do whatever it is our Moms would like to do on their day. No matter what they want to make of their holiday, they should get that and so much more for all they do for us every day of the year. Our Moms in this picture symbolize part of who Donny & I are. Each of them set an example for us of how to be a good spouse, parent, and friend. They helped us learn right from wrong, good from bad, how to treat others, and to be whatever we wanted in life.

I was not able to be with my Mom yesterday but I talked to her a lot throughout the day to make sure she was having a good time. She chose to spend her day shopping and enjoying the afternoon with my Dad and sister. I wish I could remember to have more patience at times when her and I are talking or to thank her more often for everything she does for me and everyone else. I have told her that and she just says, "Tine I know you do." She is my Mom and I am a part of her. I know she will always know how much I love and appreciate her but there are days when I wish I could repay her for everything she has done. If I know my Mom, which I think I do, she'd tell me that just by working hard, being happy, and enjoying life is how I am repaying her. Since I started this blog, my Mom and I have been teasing about times we have had together from the time I was a baby to now. We've had those typical mother-daughter fights, times when I chose to be the "rebel," or test my limits. On the other side and much more common, we have our long talks on the phone (usually more than once a day), jokes only we understand, share a love for hot weather and sunshine, and the list could go on and on. I love my Mom for so many reasons and hope I remember to tell her that often.

Donny & I spend the day at his parents’ house yesterday for Mother's Day. His Mom chose to spend the day with us sitting outside, grilling out, and enjoying the day. On our way over to their house yesterday Donny made a comment about the bond he and his Mom have and how the way she is with him is different than how she is with other people. I loved that he said that because it showed that his Mom raised him right and he loves and respects her. His Mom and I have developed a special bond too, which I am very grateful for because I know not all mother/daughter-in-law relationships are like ours. Since my family lives three hours away, I miss being able to just go see my Mom and enjoy a day of shopping or to meet up for coffee whenever we want (which means when I do see her to do these things I really appreciate that.) My almost Mother-in-law has been like a Mom to me. We enjoying our Kohl’s trips, Starbucks drinks, sharing stories about our weeks and normal mother-daughter stuff. I am so thankful to have a second Mom like her and I love her for welcoming me into their family. I am also thankful that she raised her son to be a respectful, loving and caring man who I will soon call my husband. You know what kind of a husband a man will be by the way he treats his Mom and because of that I have no question that he will be an amazing husband.

Whether you spent the day with your Mom, Mother-in-law, Grandma, Aunt, Friend, or Sister yesterday know that just by being with them and letting them enjoy the day doing whatever they wanted, made them feel very special. Through my rambling I'd like you to take this message away today...don't let that one day in May be the only time you make it a point to thank that special woman or women in your life. No one knows if tomorrow will come or not, so don't let a day go by where you don't tell someone you love them or thank them for all they do or have done. It only takes a few seconds to pick up a phone or write an email to send that quick note. After all, they are half the reason you are in this world to begin with!

Martina McBride singing Teenage Daughters (Click Here)

Before I elaborate on my first post and the purpose of this blog, I thought this song by Martina McBride, Teenage Daughters, was a perfect way to segway into everything. Whether you are or were the Mother, Father or Teenage Daughter in this song we can all relate just a little and I am sure get a laugh thinking about a time you caused your Mom or Dad to need a drink or felt like you as the parent needed one. Just click on the title of the post to listen to Teenage Daughters.

Enjoy!

Pillow Fluffing

My fiancé and I moved into the same apartment that 20 plus years ago my parents got their lives started in together, a little over one year ago. This apartment was also my home from the time I was brought home from the hospital as a newborn, until I was twelve years old. My Grandma (my Mom's Mom) is our landlord and lives on the first floor. We moved in to be around for her when my Grandpa passed away in January 2010.

When Donny and I moved in, I did like I always do when there is a project to be completed, stayed awake until every box was unpacked and each item was in its' new place. I had a combination of feelings moving in. This was my first home as a child and now it was my first home as an adult, it was strange knowing my Papa would never see the new Cubs picture hanging above our TV or sit with me in our backyard. There was a sense of excitement and curiosity about exploring these once familiar streets of the neighborhood but instead of riding in circles on my pink bicycle I would be walking hand-in-hand with Donny trying out new restaurants and finding the bars with the best drinks specials. I was a grown up now or at least my age reflected I was and I was starting a new chapter, but this time I got the biggest room and I wouldn’t be sharing with my brother or sister.

I went to bed that first night so proud of the decor and satisfied with the furniture arrangement we had finally agreed upon. Looking around I smiled because my Mom had helped me pick everything in the apartment out, all Kohl’s or Target sale/clearance items of course, but nonetheless still perfect. She had been right about those end tables; a pretty tablecloth can make all the difference. Before I turned the lights off I fluffed the pillows, folded the throw on the couch, and finally got some sleep. The next day was followed by work, cooking dinner on the stove my Mom and Dad once used to prepare my siblings and I dinners, a little rearranging of decorations, more pillow fluffing, and bedtime. Just as any couple does, Donny & I developed a routine making sure to keep excitement and adventure present. However, it was not until a few months into living in our old/new home that I realized there was one part of the routine that was not changing...the pillow fluffing and throw folding. "Oh no!" This was my reaction one night as I threw a pillow on the couch as if I had just realized I spilled red wine on my favorite white shirt. I had done it, not once, not twice, but every night since we moved in. I had become a pillow fluffer and what I thought was even worse was that my Mother did that every night in that same apartment and in our house for as long as I could remember. Could it be true? Was I really turning into my Mom? No, impossible. I had tried for so long to be my own person, to not pick up her habits, and had insisted I would be Christine, not Annie. I decided that since I had caught this habit early enough into what seemed to be the first stages of "morphing" into my Mother that I could stop it before it developed into something permanent.

From that moment on I made a conscious effort to not care if the pillows were not as fluffy as they could be or if Donny left the blanket on the floor instead of folding it and placing it neatly over the center of the couch. But one morning before work I couldn't take it anymore, I had to fluff the pillows! And in that instant, when I took a sigh of relief that the couch finally looks neat for, you know, all those people to see (AKA Donny & I), I began to realize I may have been fighting the inevitable and decided to take a closer look at who I am, why I am this person, and could it be that turning into my Mom in some ways could be a good thing? Hmmm....