The Day I Turned Into My Mother

You don't suddenly wake up one morning after becoming a parent and realize you've turned into your mother. It's more insidious than that. It sneaks in little by little so you won't notice and attempt a correction. It's devious, your mouth almost involuntarily forming words that have been hibernating in the depths of your memory, waiting for their big debut. Suddenly with an impulsive and frustrated "This is why we can't have nice things!" you realize it's happened. You freeze—Breach! Breach!—but it's too late for you, because minutes later you follow up with "Don't make me say it again" or "I'm telling you, if I have to come in there."

I've chosen to accept my transformation. I let the disciplinary clichés fly; I threaten dire consequences "when your dad gets home" and "if I get to three." But it's not all bad, because I figure the other mother-traits I managed to hang on to include the one that lets me calmly handle the poster paint on my hardwood floors and the toothbrush in the toilet.

So embrace your inner mom ... and tell us in the comments below how you see your own mom showing up in your parenting!