I know, you’re all thinking it— I skipped a week. I’m sorry! I’ve been coming back up for air after my mother made an impromptu visit to help me set up my new digs. Having her in LA was so
lovely, but with the perks (quality time, fancy dinners), came the quirks. I love my mother but boy, does she know how to push my buttons!
The circle of life: We love our parents. We want to strangle our parents. We become our parents. As I get older, I find myself doing things and thinking “Huh, my parents always do that”, and then subsequently wanting to throw my limp (but toned) body at the closest wall.
I was chatting with my friend Emily, who had spent a decent amount of time with my mother while she was here. I said to Emily, “I’m sorry my mom is so controlling— I know she probably drove you crazy talking out loud about every little thing she needed to do for the apartment”. And Emily, without skipping a beat, replied “No I’m used to it, that’s exactly what you do”.
Cue body flung into wall.
So! I decided to make a little list of things I do that are undoubtedly picked up from my Type A, East Coast, Jewish parents. Maybe as a way to hold myself accountable? Or to justify to you all why I am the way that I am.
Manic Host
Watching my mother get ready to host is like watching a stage manager before opening night. No couch cushion left unturned, and she barks orders at us like she’s wearing a headset. And the overbuying…. the overbuying!! We could be hosting a party of five and there will be a bagel and lox spread big enough to feed the New York Jets.
Sloan knows firsthand that I have a disease where I can’t help but over-prepare when hosting. When we used to have our infamous Friendsgivings, she would send me to Trader Joe’s with strict instructions: DO NOT OVERBUY. I would explain this inherited ailment was in my blood, all she had to do was come to a Grebin Family Sunday Brunch to see that. But with her own Midwestern practicality, she insisted I could do it.
So I developed a system. When hosting, I now make one loop through the grocery store where I load my cart up with everything I’d like to get for my Martha-Stewart-Soiree fantasy. And then, I do a second loop, where I put everything back that I don’t need (three varietals of soft cheese come to mind) so I’m left with my realistic Girl-On-A-Budget-Gathering cart. Spoiler Alert: I still somehow overbuy. Thanks mom!
No one will ever leave my house hungry or sober! Not if I have anything to say about it!
Cold Home
Call me Snow Meiser because I love an ICY HOME! This is for sure from my parents doing. During the East Coast fall and winter I remember seeing my mother traipse around the house in a NY Rangers knit cap and sometimes, even gloves. I now would rather bundle up in a freezing house than overheat. Maybe this was a way to save money, but now it’s what my body is used to. Sorry if you’ve come over the past few weeks and left with frostbitten fingers and were too polite to say anything.
Food Pics
My father went through a phase where he was cooking “the best” everything. And by “the best”, I mean whatever comes up when you google “the best cheeseburger”, or whatever. This led to plenty of unsolicited food pics, while everything looked delicious (and maybe… even the best), my texts were flooded with pictures of his dinner. How many times can you say “yum!” to a dimly lit photo of “the best greek salad”?. No seriously, I’m asking.
Now every time I cook something, I have the immediate impulse to mass send to everyone in my contact list. All I want is for everyone to see my beautifully lit Alison Roman shallot pasta and respond “YUM!”. The instant validation is crack cocaine to me, thanks Dad!
Couch Time
This one, this one is a tough pill to swallow. Many a night my father falls asleep on our massive maroon couch, watching something like The Godfather for the thousandth time. If I go down for a glass of water at the wee hour of 1AM, there is my father, with Pacino in the background— next to an empty box of cereal. Now that I live alone, I find it all too easy to sit on my couch watching Southern Charm until their accents lull me to sleep. I will say, it was sobering to wake up with my hand grazing a box of WholeFoods365 cocoa krispies. Like father like daughter, I suppose.
Honorable Mentions:
I think it would be cruel to leave out all the wonderful things I’ve inherited from my parents. It makes for less of a fun read, however, so I will list just them and not elaborate.
the love of the NYTimes Crossword, the importance of family, the ability to make someone feel welcome, the spirit of generosity, planning a trip, being over prepared, bringing fruit on the airplane, and a love of peanut butter!!! Love you Mom and Dad!
xoxo
Lucy