I see where Mom was coming from now

I can't begin to count how many times in my childhood my mother would do or say something I considered ridiculous. Whether it was an unreasonable curfew or an obscure dinnertime law, I'd make a mental note that I will never say that to MY kid. Some of the rules at my house ranged from restrictive to downright odd. There was no explanation attached; they were simply The Rules, and we were to follow them.

Fast forward to today, and I'm a married mom of two (a 9-year-old boy and 5-year-old girl) whose childhood promises to herself have gone the way of sticker collections and candy cigarettes. Well, some of them anyway. Here are a few mantras from my mother that, somehow, make sense to me today.

"I have eyes in the back of my head." Mom said this whenever she caught us lying about something, and it drove me nuts with the lack of logic. When I was little I used to ask her if I could brush her hair just so I could covertly look for those damned eyes. (Never found 'em.) I thought she was crazy. But today I do exactly the same thing today with my kids. It turns out to be a handy cover for the real ways I find out about their shit, otherwise they'll find new methods to sneak around. They're like little terrorists that way. I call it Momland Security.

"I don't need new clothes - mine are in perfectly good shape." As a teenager I spent every weekend at the Tri-County Flea Market buying a new pair of acid washed jeans or other pieces of 80s crap. So of course I thought my mother looked ridiculous in her decade-old blouses and jewelry. One necklace she had was a hoop pendant in varying shades of gray that always made me think of a marble toilet seat. She wore that thing almost every day and it fascinated me with its ugliness, and by my teen years I wondered what was wrong with her. And yet, last month I bought myself new clothes for the first time in about four years (and subsequently freaked out about the $80 I spent on them). Who gets the new stuff? My kids do. And I don't mind a bit. Now I see where she was coming from.

"No singing at the table." Yep, you read that right. This was actually a rule at my house. We were not allowed to sing or even hum at any meal for which we were gathered. If so much as one note escaped our lips we were met with the Mom Glare - and yes, the same Mom Glare I give now (although mine's mixed with the Eyes-Wide-Open look I inherited from my dad). But the other week my daughter decided that the Spongebob Squarepants song just had to be shared at dinner. Again. And again. And again. And I kind of hate that show, really, so I finally had to blurt out "NO singing at the table, please" - at which point I realized I needed a toilet seat necklace.

"This will hurt me more than it hurts you." I always thought this was the second-biggest line of bullshit that parents give (behind "because I said so"). Yeah, right - I'm sure your ass hurts just as bad as mine after that spanking, and you're not the least bit disappointed that I'm grounded for that party because of my grades. But when I had to tell my son that, sorry, you're not allowed to stay up for the National Championship game because you keep misbehaving at school... damn. That hurt to tell him, even if it was his fault he got in trouble. Poor little guy. Wait it was his fault. Yeah, all his! Aww, but look at how sad he is... (repeat ad nauseum)

So Mom, if you're reading this... yeah, I get it. And thank you.

(But I still won't say "Because I said so" - I have my standards!)