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Mother lode

It's how they look and how they dress. It's little habits and big values that drive their lives. In ways large and small, women point to the moment they become their mothers.

By Gail Rosenblum

May 10, 2008 at 10:18PM

Molly Tierney, 30, St. Paul: “I was home from college and during a visit to my parents, my mom called out, 'How do you spell … ?’ I responded, 'Look it up in the dictionary!’ She responded, 'Oh, that IS annoying.’ It was the best thing!” (Star Tribune/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

For some of us, it happens gradually. Years pass. Our bodies soften, our politics shift, our children's feet grow bigger than ours. Then one day we catch our reflection in glass as we rush down a busy street, or hear words that seem to have escaped our mouth and ask, "Did I just say that?"

(That being, "Are you really wearing that?" Or, "If James jumped into highway traffic, would you jump, too?" Or, "You're going to catch a cold going out with wet hair!")

And we laugh, groan or shake our heads and wonder, "When did I become my mother?"

For others, though, no such grace period exists.

"June 6, 2003 -- D-Day! OMG! I'm my mother!" wrote Lisa Fosse, 49, of Columbia Heights. Fosse was one of many women who responded to our query: "When did you know you had become your mother?"

"It was a routine morning," continued Fosse, the mother of four girls. "But, when I looked in the mirror, I gasped. Oh, boy!"

Mary Simon of Montgomery, Minn., also had an "OMG!" moment. "One day I was changing the greeting on my answering machine and listened to the message for final approval," Simon, 49, wrote. "I heard my mother's voice and wondered how she could call and leave a message when I was working with the phone at the same time. Of course, it was my voice! OMG!"

Andrea Anderson, 29, and her sister, Joanna, 26, of Minneapolis, have both become their mother. "If my sister is already home when I arrive at our apartment, as soon as I get in the door I hear her yell, 'Woohoo?!' from the back and I yell, 'Woohoo!' as a confirmation that it's me. My mom has done that for years when we come home. It's like birds calling."

Jennifer Caron, 31, of Elk River, said she became her mother while still in her teens. "Even then, I would have complete phone conversations with people before they realized I wasn't my mother. My mom and I have the same laugh, the same intonations, we emphasize the same syllables in the same words. I think even our sniffs and coughs are the same."

Physical attributes were a clue for Cele Smith, 57, of Otsego, Minn., too. "Bad knees, snoring and sucking on my bottom lip have become a part of my everyday life. Same traits. Lucky me!"

Having kids seals it for others

Snoring and sucking aside, many women said they became their mothers after having children themselves. Kari Mitchell, 33, of Rosemount, got married last year and became a stepmother to a "wonderful and amazing stepson." At that juncture, she realized she "had some 'Big Jean' in me [a nickname for her tall, lean mother]. I heard myself saying things like, 'No, you can't have a snack, it's almost time for dinner,' or [Mom's] favorite, 'Well, life isn't fair.' "

Natalie Hagemo, 37, of Excelsior, shared a similar tale. "As sure as the sun rises and sets, there came that fateful day about three years ago when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my 13-year-old daughter walking out the front door to go to a birthday party," wrote Hagemo. "There my little girl was, wearing a skirt much too short for my comfort. I chased after her and the words that would alter my being came pouring out: 'Get back in the house and put some clothes on!'In that moment, I not only became my mother, but suddenly understood and had a whole new appreciation of her."

What a short skirt did for Hagemo, marriage did for Laura Pernula, 55, of Maple Grove. "Becoming your mother isn't always what you say like her, or how you act like her, but what you do like her. When I got married, I took on the household job. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping, bookkeeping. My parents were the same. This has been going on for almost 35 years."

But marriage and children aren't the only routes to mommy-merging, as Susan Marcaccini, 46, of New Hope discovered. "My boyfriend and I were driving around downtown Minneapolis one spring evening. We were in our 30s. We saw three young girls running across the street, in their late teens or early 20s. I said, 'Look at those girls. They shouldn't be downtown on a school night and none of them have jackets.' The really scary thing is that I'm not even a mother, but I'm a mother."

Then there are those annoying habits we swear we will never embrace. Until we do.

"I knew I had become my mother the first time I told my 3-year-old daughter to pick up a piece of lint off the carpet that was 30 feet away," confesses Lisa Espinosa Kannenberg, 51, of Chaska. "I vowed that once I had children I would NOT be a fussy housekeeper. What the heck are a few lint bunnies anyway? As soon as these words were past my lips, I gasped in horror! I guess it's DNA."

Yes, it is DNA, plus role modeling, experience, screw-ups, apologies and a whole lot of love thrown in for good measure. Many women wanted us to know just how grateful they are for these maternal bonds, complexities notwithstanding.

"If I have become my mother, it would be a very good thing," wrote Kim Battern, 54, of Maple Grove. Her mother, Darlene Hegle, is now in her 70s. "She's upbeat, wise, fun and a dear friend," Battern said of her mom. "I've learned a lot from her over the years."

And this sweet wrap-up comes from Elizabeth Brantley, 48, of Maple Grove. "I became my mother when I could put someone else's needs ahead of my own," Brantley wrote. "I realized what a sacrifice it really is, and how deep down someone has to dig in order to accomplish it. I am amazed she did it for all those years, with our family and others."

Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350

Kirsten Shabaz, 33, mom of two, Lakeville: “In the last year or so, my 5-year-old daughter is realizing all the things other kids are getting for their birthdays or at the store. So I’ve become my mother more than ever. When I hear, 'I want a (fill-in-the-blank) because everyone else has one,’ my response is, 'It doesn’t matter to me what everyone else has. I’m not going to buy you things just because everyone else has them.’ ” (Star Tribune/The Minnesota Star Tribune)