What My Mom Taught Me

I think about my mother constantly. She sadly passed away in October 2024 after battling cancer for more than 10 years. I think about how she would laugh at my kids' antics when I'd call her almost daily when I left work to pick up my kids at daycare. I think about how much she would scold me when my profanity would spike in our conversations as I relayed a story that just burned my toast. I think about her when I take a funny video or sweet picture of my kiddos and remember that I can't share it with her anymore.

I've also, over the last few weeks, thought about what she'd say about this blog. If she would tell me I make too many jokes--probably. Most likely, she'd be proud. She was always proud of my writing and (sometimes) my sense of humor.

Southern born and raised, my mother was one tough cookie. She grew up on a cattle farm, led life with little fear, and without a doubt I think she could probably out-stare a bull any day of the week (I always think of Nick Dundee and the water buffalo in the first Crocodile Dundee movie when the animal is subdued).

She taught my brother, sister, and me so much about life. It wasn't always an easy relationship between us, but she is and always will be home to her three kids. Her brothers and sisters loved her dearly and my cousins adored her. Her absence is felt by us all on a continual basis.

As a teenager, I didn't want to be anything like my mother. As I stumbled into adulthood, I started noticing some eerie similarities. Some were downright spooky, like when I unknowingly bought the same shirt she had and wore it on the same day she did. My sister had a similar shocker when she got her driver's license renewed and called me, panicked, because mom's face had mysteriously appeared on her ID.

Other traits I picked up from her are what I like to call "mom quirks." I finally get why mom wasn't thrilled when I complained non-stop about our shopping trips. Now, my own kid's constant whining about boredom while I try to buy groceries or clothes makes my eye twitch.

And then there's the classic dinner dilemma. When I announce what's for dinner, my kid's reaction is a dramatic "Yuck, I'm not eating that." My mom would give me the evil eye every time I pulled that stunt (and it was ALL the time) and now I get it. Especially when it's a meal my girl used to inhale without complaint but suddenly treats it like it's radioactive.

Right, wrong, or just plain stubborn, my mom's brand of tough love was not always easily accepted. No whining, no complaining, and as my daughter has been saying lately, "You get what you get, and you don't throw a fit!" I think that was my mom's anthem for my brother, sister, and me as we grew up.

I sometimes catch myself channeling her parenting style too. Let's face it, a lot of us want to outdo our parents in the parenting game. Whether you weren't a fan of their style or you adored it and think you can add some extra pizzazz, we all aim to be the deluxe model for our kids. And while our parents might not have been overflowing with "extra," with us, we get to watch them transform into entirely different people around grandkids.

The shenanigans grandkids pull off is mind-blowing. The lectures my mom gave me when I had to put my oldest in time-out or told her to say goodbye to the iPad, you'd think I was the most monstrous creature my mother had ever laid eyes on.

My mom's superpower was showering her grandkids with so much love, they practically swam in it. I'm thankful my daughter got to know and spend time with her beloved Grammie. My son, sadly, won't have those direct memories, but we've got a treasure chest of photos and videos to introduce him to the legend.

My mother left behind a small army of grandkids and great grandkids, always cheering them on and being their anchor. That's the kind of legacy I want to uphold—being the ultimate cheerleader for my little ones.

So, for all us moms with traits we sometimes wish we didn't have or wish we had in abundance, just hug your kiddos every chance you get. They need to bask in our love for them constantly. My mom taught me that.

--Amber

My Mom and Brother - Early 80s! Love you always, Mom!