History Repeats Itself

I’ve heard all my life that girls turn into their mothers. Sometimes that’s said with nostalgia, and sometimes it’s shrieked in a Facebook status, followed by “Aaaaaaagh!”

I’ve had a couple of funny realizations myself over the past few weeks, things that just sneaked up on me…some causing me to shake my head, and others just making me laugh, understanding first hand that I must have caused my mama some headaches now and then.

When our girls were infants, I agonized over every ounce of milk they drank. Since they started eating big people food, though, I’ve taken a more laissez-faire approach…they’ll eat when they’re hungry, and they’ll drink when their thirsty. It will all even out, as long as I offer them a variety of healthy choices.

Baby B has started drinking very little milk in the mornings. She warms up later in the day, but there are times when I don’t think she has even one sip with breakfast. I found myself directing her, “Drink your milk, Sweetie!” “You’ve gotta start the day with some milk!” And I was instantly transported back to being a three-year old myself, my mom directing, pleading, bargaining with me to drink milk.

Gasp! Stop it, Mandy…lest Baby B develops the same psychological (?) disdain for milk that I had growing up!

I gasped similarly when I was putting undershirts on the girls a few days ago. I HATED wearing undershirts when I was a kid. I remember asking to wear a certain shirt, and my mom would say yes, but I had to wear an undershirt.

“But nobody else wears undershirts!” I’d rebut. I remember thinking how dowdy they seemed…slightly gauzy with this scratchy lace trim…ick!

Note to self: Don’t make a big deal of undershirts. Play up the layered look if you have to. And maybe forego the lace trim.

And then I just had to laugh when I realized I’d been whispering a certain sweet nothing in the girls’ ears ahead of nap time. As I try to set the mood for the girls to “Lie down, close your eyes, relax, and go to sleep,” I recently added, “You need your rest to grow up big and strong.”

My mom really dangled that carrot far above my short, stubby legs, telling me I’d grow up tall if I slept well. As a ~four-year old, I remember telling her I thought I was getting really tall, since I’d been sleeping so well. HA!

(Either I didn’t rest as well as I thought I did, or my mom was stretching the truth…I somehow ended up only 5’2”.)

These are certainly not the only times I’ve hearkened back to my upbringing, and I’m sure they won’t be the last. I guess it’s part of the circle of life, so to speak.

I’ll do my best to learn from those before me…and hope I won't have to do too much "paying for my raising".