“Sometimes I open my mouth and my Mother comes out”
I think it’s inevitable, one day we ladies will all look in the mirror and there she is, your Mother staring straight back at you, well this indeed seems to be the case for me. The realization has been dawning on me for some time, certain words and phrases I come out with, facial expressions I pull and much to my horror, my dress sense!!!!
It was just last week, I’d booked a spa stay with a good friend at Rowhill Grange in Dartford, got to love a Groupon deal!!… We’d had our treatments and spent some time loafing about the pool area in the obligatory white bath robes and had decided to head back to our room, relax some more and watch some mindless crap on TV before going down for dinner. I slipped into my new navy velour jumpsuit and Birkie’s and proceeded to lounge. As I walked past the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door it struck me, like being slapped in the face with a wet fish, I was wearing, pretty much, the same outfit I used to mercilessly ridicule my Mother for sporting when I was a horrid, stroppy, easily embarrassed teenager… It had finally happened, what had been a gradual metamorphosis was complete; I was a fully-fledged member of the “Turned into your Mother “ club.
I’ve always been told there was a resemblance, Mum was dark haired with dark eyes like me, same mouth and face shape…. an obvious family likeness, but it was only when I’d lost my hair during chemo that the similarities became more distinct to me. When the hairs all gone the face is more observable, the features look larger and expressions seem more pronounced, it was only really then that I could see my Mum looking at me from the mirror. I found it comforting in my more upbeat moments and sad on the not-so-good days, either way I was proud to look like her, she was after-all, for all the bickering and nagging, my beautiful Mum.
If only it were just the looks…. Oh no, I have found myself genuinely using the phrase “A stitch in time saves nine”… am I 90 years old I ask you?????, and unfortunately the hubby tends to go about his daily business at 100mph, whether it be hitting the gym or making a cuppa, there’s banging and crashing, dropping and forgetting going on all over the place, this inadvertently leads to the use of said phrase on a fairly regular basis, each time I cringe, but it just bursts out, like some weird form of “Mum Tourette’s”.
It’s not just at home in front of my nearest and dearest that this shit happens, my mumisms are out in the public domain for all to behold. My Little Granddad (Mum’s Dad) used to find it amusing to call things by their incorrect names, for example, a Pied-Wagtail is a common garden dwelling bird in the UK, in the Arnold household, for reasons only known to my Little Granddad, this bird was known as a Poly-Dishwasher, I was in my 20’s before I discovered it’s real name and by that time Poly-Dishwasher had stuck, thanks!!….
…to add insult to injury, chopters were helicopters and fire gin-gins were fire-engines… No really, it’s not at all embarrassing when one of these “amusing” terms pop out during conversation with total strangers!!!! “What’s the magic word?”…. Now I am an adult with no kids, this term, unless being directed at a child or being used in a sarcastic manner, should have no place in my vocabulary, but there it is, tripping off my tongue… and before you say it, I know it’s totally unacceptable to say this to a 41 year-old man but what can I say, “Mum Tourette’s” strikes again.
It’s not just the looks, the velour jumpsuits and orthopaedic shoes, the pre 1900’s phrases and childish terminology, there’s more. This weekend I found myself literally tapping hubby’s legs as he sat minding his own business on the sofa with his laptop and headphones on, and saying “UP UP”… as I hoovered under his feet, I also nag about not finishing one toilet roll before starting another and leaving dirty washing on the floor amongst other things… “Who do you think does all this, the fairies?”…. and I thought one of the few silver-linings of not having any rug-rats around the place would put a stop to the clearly unavoidable happening that is “Turning into your Mother”, well apparently not. I am officially an elasticated waist wearing, comfortable shoe donning, Midsummer Murder watching 40 something who tuts when teenagers swear on trains, drives like an old lady, naps like a nan and occasionally buys Home & Garden magazine… and do you know what, I think I kind of like it!
Velvet Jumpsuit – http://www.asos.com/women/