I am my mother's daughter.
There, I said it. For most daughters, this realization is tantamount to finding her first grey hair or...something else equally earth-shattering. It is enough to drive a girl off a balcony, because well, who wants to become their Mother?!
I, for one, have been hearing about how alike my mother and I are for years and have only recently not followed the comment one of my trademarked over the top eye rolls. Probably because it's true, I am just like my mother. How am I like my mother? Let me count the ways
Folding towels and washcloths:
When I was young and "the chosen one" to fold towels and washcloths for Mom, there was hell to pay if you didn't follow protocall for the folding and storing of clean towels and washcloths.
There was a correct and an incorrect way to folding and if you happened to fold the incorrect way you were rewarded with a Mommy Dearest-esque performance of throwing the towels and washcloths on the floor and a request to do it again, this time the correct way.
I always swore when I grew up I wouldn't care how in the hell the towels were folded. That is, until I got married and Husband tried to fold the load of clean linens. Without blinking or hesitation, I threw myself a little Mommy Dearest-esque performance of my own and proceeded to instruct Husband on the correct way to fold our washcloths and towels.
That was 5 years ago and Husband still refuses to fold towels and washcloths, not because he doesn't know how, but because I always redo them in accordance to Mom's standards.
Note the clean lines, the precision folds all pointing in the right direction for easy plucking from the linen closet. This, my friends, is how towels and washcloths are folded.
Love of books and reading:
My favorite place in the world to be? Libraries or book stores. I never feel guilty about spending money on books. I have 4 bookshelves in a 2 bedroom apartment stuffed to capacity with books. Like my mother, I have a stack of books by my nightstand all of which I am in the process of reading. I love the smell of books, the feel of the pages between my fingers and the comforting heft of holding a book in my hands. My mom and I have both agreed, Kindles are not for us, nothing can replace holding a book in your hand.
PINK!
I remember asking my mom what her favorite color was when I was little, the answer then, and the answer now remains the same.
Fuschia or Magenta, depending on the box of crayons (that's also where I get my love of coloring, even as an adult)
Not just any shade of pink for my mom, but bright, vibrant, smile-when-you-look at it Magenta. And for those of you who know me at all, I love anythingpink magenta.
The list goes on and on, but the older I get, the more I notice, and the prouder I am to be turning into my mother.
After all, who wouldn't want to turn into this?
Love you Mom!
There, I said it. For most daughters, this realization is tantamount to finding her first grey hair or...something else equally earth-shattering. It is enough to drive a girl off a balcony, because well, who wants to become their Mother?!
I, for one, have been hearing about how alike my mother and I are for years and have only recently not followed the comment one of my trademarked over the top eye rolls. Probably because it's true, I am just like my mother. How am I like my mother? Let me count the ways
Folding towels and washcloths:
When I was young and "the chosen one" to fold towels and washcloths for Mom, there was hell to pay if you didn't follow protocall for the folding and storing of clean towels and washcloths.
There was a correct and an incorrect way to folding and if you happened to fold the incorrect way you were rewarded with a Mommy Dearest-esque performance of throwing the towels and washcloths on the floor and a request to do it again, this time the correct way.
I always swore when I grew up I wouldn't care how in the hell the towels were folded. That is, until I got married and Husband tried to fold the load of clean linens. Without blinking or hesitation, I threw myself a little Mommy Dearest-esque performance of my own and proceeded to instruct Husband on the correct way to fold our washcloths and towels.
That was 5 years ago and Husband still refuses to fold towels and washcloths, not because he doesn't know how, but because I always redo them in accordance to Mom's standards.
Note the clean lines, the precision folds all pointing in the right direction for easy plucking from the linen closet. This, my friends, is how towels and washcloths are folded.
Love of books and reading:
My favorite place in the world to be? Libraries or book stores. I never feel guilty about spending money on books. I have 4 bookshelves in a 2 bedroom apartment stuffed to capacity with books. Like my mother, I have a stack of books by my nightstand all of which I am in the process of reading. I love the smell of books, the feel of the pages between my fingers and the comforting heft of holding a book in my hands. My mom and I have both agreed, Kindles are not for us, nothing can replace holding a book in your hand.
PINK!
I remember asking my mom what her favorite color was when I was little, the answer then, and the answer now remains the same.
Fuschia or Magenta, depending on the box of crayons (that's also where I get my love of coloring, even as an adult)
Not just any shade of pink for my mom, but bright, vibrant, smile-when-you-look at it Magenta. And for those of you who know me at all, I love anything
The list goes on and on, but the older I get, the more I notice, and the prouder I am to be turning into my mother.
After all, who wouldn't want to turn into this?
Love you Mom!
Add a cute white basket, and you've got my newest hobby! 
