Becoming My Mother

Maybe it is inevitable.  

Maybe it happens to all of us. 

Maybe we are bound to become our mothers – at least in some ways. 

Maybe I was always this person, this person who so resembles my mother, and I just needed to be a mother myself to see it. 

Over the past few months, through interactions with both my toddler and teenage stepson, I have become aware that I am becoming my mother. I am not sure when it happened exactly, or if it has been a slow transformation, but it is real and tangible in all of the day-to-day interactions that I have. 

About a month ago, my toddler and I were outside for some morning play time. He gets cranky if he is cooped up in the house for too long, but as he gets older and way faster I have realized that I need to somehow corral the crazy boy, even outside. I had just turned him around in the driveway and sent him on his way back to the house, and away from a very busy street, when it hit me. The 'it' was BEAUTY. The sun was shining down in rays, in amongst the leaves from the big trees out front, and it was kind of sparkling and shimmering as it hit the dust - and no doubt dirt - that was floating through the air.  

The 'it', the BEAUTY, was so sudden and intense that I started to cry.  

That moment was the best part of that day. It was weeks ago, but I still remember that simple moment was the sweetest moment of the day, and maybe the week. It was like God was sending down a gift, already unwrapped and spilling out for me. Even now, on a day when I have felt cranky for unnecessary reasons, it still makes me tear up.  

The fact that I am my mother hit me as soon as my goofy-eyed toddler turned his head back to see me, his mother, nearly crying in the driveway. I do not know why, but I was embarrassed for him to see me crying in the driveway for no apparent reason. I obviously could not explain the depth of feelings in that moment to him – he is only a year and a half after all, but in that moment, it was very clear to me that I had done something that my mother would have done. Not only did I realize that, but that I would have scoffed at her for doing it. That display of emotions is something I have seen her do countless times, and have judged her for.  

It is sobering to realize that my actions mirror those parts of her that I have so often harshly judged in the past. 

In that moment of beauty with my little boy, I could see myself as I used to see my mother.
Then not long after, through a somewhat annoying interaction with our teenager, I was humbled to see that I needed to become more of who she had been for me. 

The teenager of the house had been busy watching documentaries about the food industry, and what happens to our bodies as we eat that food. He then proceeded to tell me about the evils of the meat industry, about the addicting nature of sugar, and about the overall conspiracy that is our government. He even brought up the 'failure' of Michelle Obama's healthy school lunch initiative. This, mind you, from the boy who told me he had already had protein in his lunch... blueberries, duh! My immediate reaction was one of annoyance. I could only imagine how picky he would become about dinners, especially since even the grass-fed beef that I mentioned was not good enough. 

Then, I remembered my own bout with veganism in high school. Please know, I am not trying to sound negative about vegetarianism or veganism - I just know that today I am too weak to live that way myself! Many moons ago, my alma mater hosted a wellness day where different speakers were brought in for workshops on various topics of healthy living. I too, after learning about the reality of food production in North America, wanted to give up meat and dairy. Guess what my mother did? 

The woman who I even then judged (perhaps more so... teenagers are such a blessing 😉) made it a priority to buy Boca burgers, soy milk, and cook meals that incorporated tofu and lentils. She supported my, perhaps annoying, dietary choices. 

After I took a step back from my feelings of annoyance with a teenager spouting information that I was already aware of, I could see things differently. I took a moment to text mum and apologize for any annoyingly condescending comments I made in my teenage years about food, and then told the teenager we could make some changes around the house in regards to our diet too – he just had to tell me what he wanted to eat instead. 

Now, he hasn't requested tofu or even given up ice cream for that matter, but that is beside the point.  

Reigning in my own feelings has allowed me to see just how much I should become my mother through my interactions with my stepson. She supported my decision to become a vegan, and instead of scoffing at me helped me to make healthy replacements. While our teenager has not taken any steps after his initial soap-box tirade, I know that I need to step up as a supporter if he does. 

The idea of becoming one's mother is so taboo.

So often when it is spoken of it is made to sound like a moment of failure. Yet the past couple of months have shown me that I need to take the good parts of the woman who raised me and make them part of who I am as well.  

There will obviously be moments of beauty where I see mum coming out of me, like a slow seeping, and it will be a kind of passive experience. I may tear up or even cry when I see something wonderful, and it will be a chance for me to let my guard down, let me see the love that I was raised around, and let God in. There will also be moments of frustration and introspection as I question who I am as I parent an adolescent. I may not see the wonderful aspects here, but I will still need to let God in.  

I think becoming one's mother (or father) is inevitable. We are bound to revert back to the ways that we ourselves were raised. The trick, it seems, is bringing in the good aspects of our elders while also choosing to bring in the good that we have learned.  

It seems that becoming one's mother is quite easy, but becoming a fuller, more God-focused version of one's mother is much more work. 

Say a prayer for me after you read this. Consciously becoming a better version of both mum and of myself is not easy - I have a toddler and a teenager, after all.