It’s the classic tale.
Growing up, I wasted a lot of breath arguing that I was nothing like my mother. And in my defense, I really didn’t think I was. I can’t count the number of times I told her, “I’m going to let my little girl do that,” or “you’re so annoying leave me alone.” I’m sure everyone can relate to those sentiments.
When I was a little girl, people would say I looked nothing like my mom, and a lot like my dad. I was daddy’s little girl (still am). But as I grew up, I heard those dreaded words more and more—you are exactly like your mother.
I always thought, this person is craaaazy. No, we don’t look alike; no, we don’t talk alike; and no, we don’t act alike. I fought a constant mental battle against all those who said this to me.
And now, I’m raising the white flag. My mother and I are strikingly similar. Not only do I surrender to this accusation, I am proud to be emulating my mother.
She is the kindest, wackiest, most fun-loving person I know. She raised three fabulous kids (if I do say so myself) with a wonderful husband (hi dad). She is surrounded by wonderful friends and embraces life in the most positive way.
It took me going away to college and moving to a different state to realize how similar we are. I don’t feel the need to list every quality we share because honestly, it would take too long. I would, however, like to say that this easily makes my mom my best friend. From being awfully tone deaf (is that genetic?) and anxious to loving The Sound of Music and Build Me Up Buttercup, there’s no one else who gets it quite like she does.
To my brothers, Josh and Keith: You were right (I’m sure you’re glad to have that statement in writing). I am exactly like mom. For all of those times you accidentally called me mom instead of Erica during arguments—thank you. I can’t think of a higher compliment.
