Mothers!!

Your mother will always look out for you no matter how old you get it seems. Since I just moved here from that Stepford Wife state of CT, I’ve been temporarily staying with the parental units until my new house is ready next month. So I was humorously reminded of the protective bond a mother provides over the years. Let me explain a recent chain of events on how it goes on down the line through the generation tug of war.
Last week at dinner time my pre-schooler grumbled that he didn’t want to eat his food. He got down from the table and screamed, “Mommy, I want oreo’s for dinner.” Didn’t sound like a bad idea to me - heck, I wanted cookies for dinner too. Oh, but then the mother instinct took over and I told him “no” of course and he went off stomping his feet and yelling, “Bad Mommy”.
So after putting him to bed I dressed up and was leaving the house to go to a late dinner with friends but had popped my head into the TV room where my mother and grandmother were watching, “SuperNanny” that horrid little show with unruly children you wish to ship off to Guam. “You should watch this show, Carol, you could a learn a thing or two,” says my mother. “That little guy of hers could be an episode himself,” jokes my Grandmother. So I roll my eyes like any good daughter would and try to escape for my night out but too late – mom is out of the chair and scrutinizing my outfit. After a frown the size of half a hula hoop, she reaches over and buttons my shirt, “Look at this – you have cleavage showing for goodness sake.” Immediately I’m thrown back to high school hiding a pair of 3” red suede Candie heels in my back pack that I would change into after I got off the bus at school. So I let her do it knowing full well I’m going to unbutton it again when I leave the house. On the way out the door I overhear my grandmother complain to my mother, “You’re gonna let her go out at 9:00 at night?” “She’s 40 years old, Ma,” my mother replies. “I don’t care - What is she doing at 9:00 at night,” my Grandmother continues to apply pressure. I just know my mother is rolling her eyes at her own mother.
So the stress gets passed on down the line from mother to mother across the generations. Always looking out for your best interest with that mother hen instinct to protect their young even though you are a parent yourself. The next day my mother wheels my Grandmother into the Adult Day Center to spend some time with her friends. (93yrs. old and still kicking, God Bless her cranky little self) As she leaves she overhears my grandmother say to her friends, “Damn kids! Sixty years old and she’s still giving me aggravation!”