3 Ways I’m like my mother

Sharing is caring!

The older I get the more I realize I am like my mom. Today, I will share three ways I’m like my mother.

I worry about weather and travel.

The first way I’m like my mother is that I worry about weather and travel. In my younger days when my mom would call to warn me about predicted dangerous weather and urge me to start home so I could make it before driving became treacherous, I thought maybe she worried too much about storms. I might be hours away from home, but I might also not be far at all. Sometimes the storms never materialized. You know how systems change, and meteorologists get it wrong. Now, I do the same thing, except I don’t have to call. I can drive my children nuts with a text. It struck me that when she does this and when I do this, we’re really saying that we love our children. We want them to be safe, protected, healthy, and well.

If a matter feels urgent or foreign, fears amp up. This happens to me when my children travel, especially out of the country. News stories or stories from coworkers or friends may compound things. So and so went there and nearly died. Didn’t you hear that crime and murder are rampant there because there is no respected law?

Why do we worry?

It doesn’t make sense why I react this way. I have no control whatsoever. It all lies in God’s hands. It will be what it will be. Most of our fears never materialize. So, why do we fall into that trap?

We want to be in control, but we’re not.

We think we’re safe in our normal routines, but we’re not.

We think we can protect, but we cannot totally protect anyone, not even ourselves.

Life is unpredictable. We can be wise, take precautions, do our homework, perform everything right, and something can go wrong. Let it go; give it to God.

That all sounds great in my head. The problem is getting my feelings into alignment.

I urge people to eat up.

Another trait I share with my mom comes with leftovers. My children tease about this. Grandma will urge someone to eat the last of or more of something—even telling Grandpa he can’t have it because he needs to fit into his suit for the wedding—because why store it in the refrigerator when there is so much other stuff. I do this more and more, especially with desserts. I love desserts, so if others don’t eat it, I will. There goes the healthy diet. Please eat the pie. I made it just for you, and look how much there is.

I realize that I bake and cook up a storm when company comes. If the company happens to be my children, I ponder over their favorites and dash in lots of love as I stir and prep. Whenever we visit my parents, we never leave hungry, and I can say the same for my guests.

I’d rather be the passenger.

When it comes to driving, I prefer someone else drive, especially if it is to a new destination. I mention this phobia occasionally in this blog. Some folks love to drive. I don’t. The problem is, the older I get, the more often I chauffeur. I hauled children around when they were young, but driving close to home is no big deal. Now I escort my parents shopping in the city or to other family hours away in cities I really don’t know.

“They” say doing something you’re afraid to do will make you braver. Soon it will be comfortable and old news. We’ll see. It may just be that some things we dread, we always dread.

So, that’s three ways of how I’m like my mother. Mom and I share more traits, but these three top the list. We work hard, care for our families, and don’t drink or smoke.

How are you like your mother?