I Am Not My Mother (& Repeat)

I am not my mother. Sounds so simple and obvious, but sometimes I need to say it. Out loud.

I am not my mother.

We're alike in many ways - we both have a pretty mean sense of humor and a low threshold of embarrassment, we're both good dancers, we can both be pretty stubborn, we've both been known to break into song for no reason...

But there are also more than a few areas where we're different. And I need to learn that that's ok.

Cause I am not my mother.

I know, you're saying "duh". But I think we all grow up wanting our children to enjoy all of the advantages we had as kids. And when we can't provide that, it's hard not feeling like you've somehow failed them. I had the house people always wanted to come to - my kids would rather go to Monika's house than Disneyland. My mother always had a hot dinner ready - I can NOT cook. I'm working on it, but progress is slow and really, you're either a natural or you're not. And as a child, my mother (and by extension I) took great pride in never donning a store-bought Halloween Costume.

So this time next year, can someone please look at me, remind me "You are not your mother" and send my ass to Target?? Oh, and make sure it's the one with the Pizza Hut so I can bring back dinner too.