Nana and granddaughter

Motherhood gives you a new respect for...motherhood. What I mean to say is this: it has been a record 10 weeks since my own mother and I have had one of our typical falling-outs. It is not lost on me that this is roughly the same amount of time that my daughter has been on the earth. From the moment Tolby was born, I began to realize I would never be the perfect mother. In doing so, I truly understood that there is no such thing.

My mother has been trying to forge a stronger bond with me for years. I didn't buy it because I was too busy reliving past wrongs with a martyristic vengeance: all those naps she forced on me as a toddler; the incessant nagging about my messy room; blame transferred to me when she spilled her own milk; the groundings I endured as a teenager; the dinnertime discussions where none of my political beliefs were given any credence whatsover; the financial worries that hung over my head as I wondered if I would be able to attend college; and her disapproval of the man who ultimately became my husband. Now I realize that my childhood wasn't lived in a perfect vacuum, and that life didn't stop for my parents when my head hit the pillow every naptime and night. My mom isn't just a parent, she's a person. That means she's allowed to have faults, peccadillos, quirks and outside interests. These are things I've always accepted and even embraced in my friends but have never been willing to look past in my own mother.

Now I am a mother myself. In a way, I wish I knew how to make my daughter expect less of me. Posted by Picasa


Anonymous Roxie Carol said...

Peccadillos? Is that some kind of crunchy Mexican food? I'll have to try some next time I'm at Taco Bell.

2:52 PM  

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