Mother Knows Best: Mom’s Advice that Shaped our Lives
If she’s said it once, she’s said it a thousand times…and sure, she may have elided your name with those of your siblings (Andr-Emi-MADELYNNNN!) when calling you, and you knew you were in for it when she called you by your first and middle names, but you know what, when Mom talked, you listened. Even if you acted like what she had to say was, like, so lame, we heard Mom’s words. As adults we likely appreciate them even more so today. Mom’s words of wisdom continue to shape who we are, how we interact with the world, and for many of us, how we mother our own children. So whether we see each other rarely, or we talk every day, or only have cherished memories, how lucky are we that we were raised by such wise women?
Madelyn: “You’re perfectly capable.” Not, you’re smart / kind / pretty, or any other reassuring attribute that a rail-thin (ok, scrawny), sort of nerdy, very bossy little girl might want to hear. Nope, I got capable. And, ugh, I hated hearing it. It was said so often it may as well have been my mom’s mantra. It was not what a child pleading for help to clean the toy room wanted to hear, nor the response a stressed-out high schooler wanted when asking her mom to type up a paper (and no, gah, it didn’t matter AT ALL that everyone else’s parents always typed theirs).
But now I realize that it was the best advice ever. Why? Because whether you believed you were capable or not, she did – and eventually, that notion took hold and became a belief. Move across the country to a city you’ve never set foot in to take a new job in a new industry? Sure, you’re perfectly capable. Welcome twins when you’ve barely gotten the hang of your two year old? Of course, you’re perfectly capable. And it worked. I believe it. So you all have her to thank for the know-it-all you know today. (And since I know she’s reading this: Thanks! I love you, Mom!)
Not only did I get the best mother in the world (This is true, ask my friends: they have mom envy.), I also won the mother-in-law lottery. In addition to her world-class meatballs (that I still cannot replicate, sigh) and truly enviable sense of style, she has taught me more than she knows about patience. Gilda is unflappable, and takes everything, and I mean everything, in stride with an attitude of acceptance and understanding that is unparalleled. I hope to one day have half as good an attitude…and be as lucky as she is at the slots.
Elizabeth W.: “NBD!” is the Jan-ism I’ve heard since birth — “No big deal!” She brings a little perspective to things when I decide something minor is worth freaking out over. My mom was really sick for a long time when I was little…I guess her own experience has taught her when to make a stink, and when to shake it off. Not everything requires a full-on Moment. (Thanks, Mama!)
Darby: Some of the best advice my mother gave me she “borrowed” from someone else! It is timeless and true, and how I try to lead my life to the best of my ability, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The Golden Rule.
There are times (ok, probably multiple times!) we don’t believe our children listen to what we say. However, I asked my daughter Liza and my son Mason, what, if anything, I have taught them. I feel blessed they quickly responded with some of my favorite words to live by.
Liza: “Treat everyone and everything with kindness; you never know what they might be going through.”
Mason: “Smile at everyone — it could make a huge difference in their life.”
Susie: Advice from my mother who was a very special woman and my hero, for many reasons: “Let them know that you love them, every day;” “Always find the good in what they do,” and “Give them the sense that they are special.”
Christen: I fought my creative penchant for a long time. Although I had considered it throughout high school, college, and my early career, going into fashion wasn’t serious enough, admirable enough, reputable enough. So, I got degrees in French literature, international policy, and peace and conflict resolution. I am glad I studied those things, but I am also glad that I no longer put those degrees to use professionally.
It is largely thanks to my mom that I now embrace my more artistic side. I have her to thank for encouraging me to work in a place and in an industry that I find both fun and fulfilling. She quietly yet steadily encouraged my personal sense of style as well as my ability to style others. She applauded my love of beautiful things and she never made me feel as if making a career of it was beneath me. Instead she supported me when others didn’t; she understood when others couldn’t. I think she knew long before I did that I would end up working in a creative field. Because sometimes Mama really does know best.
Elizabeth: There’s a moment from my childhood, seemingly mundane at the time, which still rings in my ears decades later. I was pestering my mother for something that everyone else at school had when we were sitting in line at the bank drive-through window and she said, “Don’t ever try to keep up with the Joneses. That is boring.”
I never realized how much my mom marched to the beat of her own drum, in a good way, until I was much older. She was way ahead of the farm-to-table and recycling crazes that proliferate suburbia today. I always joke that she is kind of a green version of Martha Stewart who likes to golf.
We lived in a country club neighborhood and the tennis courts literally backed up to our yard. She would line-dry our clothes, literally our underwear, and everyone playing tennis could see them. My friends also cut through our yard to get to the pool and would make fun of me. I was always horrified by this and voiced my complaints but she just ignored me — for which I am now thankful.
We always had a huge vegetable garden, also right next to the country club, and not much of our household’s food was processed. Soda was rarely consumed and even my sister, who was born in the 80s, wore cloth diapers. We recycled everything. She was so organized and was committed to our family eating healthy and well-balanced meals. There was a calendar on our fridge that informed us what was for dinner every night of the month. That is right, on May 1 I could tell you what we were having for dinner May 18th.
She was a social worker when I was born and went back to school when I was in elementary for a degree in nutrition. She was always volunteering at church, cooking meals for the homeless or helping someone out.
She didn’t need to keep up with the Joneses, and on my best days I try to beat to her drum instead of theirs.
Needless to say, I wish I were more like my mother.
