It’s my Mom’s birthday today. I won’t tell you how old she is because I’m not a big mouthed toddler anymore (wait…no. Not a toddler anymore). Plus, I give the gift of secrecy as a reward for aging slower than Pharell and a bribe for passing those genes on to me.
I come from a long line of incredible women with Martha Stewart level home making skills; made even more impressive because Martha draws her perfection from what I suspect is a Scrooge McDuck style greenhouse growing actual money on trees, and the only resources my Bama and Mom had were from actual trees. I. E. sticks. And Rocks. Mom’s a big fan of rocks. They can make absolutely anything with sheer willpower and one craft store coupon. Pinterest started as a sneaky way for their nosy house guests to plagiarize their genius. Their houses were immaculate and creative and immediate home for all who entered, and they did it with a budget even Mitch McConnell would approve.
Mom, more than Bama, however, is a level of OCD not yet quantified by research. She once tried to make a randomly patterned multi stripe quilt to match Target’s latest dorm decor for my little sister’s room. She “accidentally” laid the pieces out in a perfect pattern the entire distance of the queen quilt. Twice. Her maddening attention to detail has driven me to the other end of the craft spectrum where the rules are anarchy and rulers are poison.
Some traits we pick up from our parents to emulate, some to avoid. I have very few reasons to avoid being like my Mom. I have lots of things the world would be lucky if I’d picked up. It’s perfect that it’s also International Women’s day, too, a day to celebrate the women we come from and the world we hope to make. Incredible creative crackpots like my Mom paved a way for a neurotic weirdos like me*.
“Strong Women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.” Kathryn Winnick.
*In the 15 minutes before bed last night I fixed a teacup, replaced the striking paper top of my mason jar match holder, and folded a cardboard drawer organizer to corral bobby pins, while feeling absolutely sure if I left these things undone I would be a failure as an adult.