Momma-Me-A

Although I love the fact that G takes his Saturday chores seriously, I find it difficult to relax with all the movement.  I grew up with this too - my Nana was always "puttering".  Thank goodness for technology.  I prefer to "putter" online.

G is also a Sunday night power-tidy-upper; not that he's had to do that in two whole weeks.  And now he's asking me to get my grocery list together so we can meal plan.  Or get my meal plan so we can grocery shop.  In either case, it is obvious he thinks I am not supposed to be doing this.

Back to my story.  I come from a family of insanely pushy women.   I don't even mean that in the sense that they're overwhelming or nagging all the time (which they can be).  I mean that they push themselves. My Nana is going to be 82 in a couple of weeks and she's still rarely sitting.   We're thinking of getting her an iPad for her birthday - she'll sit more.

Nana has always dizzied me with her bustling; always busy, always working.  My Mom has had a horribly painful back problem for the past ten years but she still works, cleans and moves stuff that needs to be moved.   Yet both of them get on my case about "doing too much".  "You need to take a break" or "can we help with anything?" they would say.  Like it makes me feel so super capable if I have to call my 82 year old Nana to come give me a hand.

After one particularly annoying conversation with Nana that was something like the above but peppered with her telling me all the things she had accomplished that day, and how my Mom should be taking a break too, I had a lightbulb moment.  "Nana" I said with utmost firmness "you do realize that we get this from You?!" There was a short silence. "Get what from me?" She said with complete innocence.  "The taking on too much, the do it now, the I can do everything attitude!"  "Oh" she chuckled, "I guess."

Granted, this obviously hereditary issue didn't seem to hit me until about five years ago, but I've watched both my Mom and Nana deal with it my entire life.  G doesn't really seem to have it, yet he is the only person I know who can function at one hundred and ten percent on little to no sleep.  It's crazy.  Unfortunately, I don't think there's a cure for this problem and somehow all I've managed to do while writing this is create some weird anticipation of heading into my house and reorganizing my linen closet.  F. I really am becoming one of them.