Five Lessons from My Mother

Past and future me.

Now there’s a picture. Like mother, like daughter.

That’s me, bending over in a ruffled, leopard-print bathing suit looking at whatever my mom, in her ‘90s geometric suit and shorts ensemble, was showing me. It was probably some kind of wildlife tromping across our suburban mid-Michigan backyard, maybe a rabbit or a squirrel, and she was teaching me what it was. It was a simple lesson, but a first of many from my mother.

In honor of Mother’s Day, here are some of those lessons:

Don’t Take Yourself Too Seriously

My parents went to the University of Michigan. (Don’t tell, but they fell in love at a frat party.) U of M is a good school, renowned for rigorous academics, winning football games in The Big House and students with their noses held so high in the air they’re practically glued to the ceiling.

The joke goes like this: How can you tell you’ve met a University of Michigan alumnus? He’ll tell you.

Lately my mother’s noticed a trend. Often when people (read: snobs) find out she went to the University of Michigan, they’re surprised. “Really?” they say.

Now I would take this as a compliment, a sign that she’s tolerable despite her alma mater. My mother, of course, finds it offensive.

So she came up with a response: “Yeah, I went to U of M. It was really hard.”

Then, with a look, she dares the offender to disagree and risk looking like an elitist.

Maybe the real lesson is don’t take yourself too seriously, and don’t let others do it either.

Effective Use of the Cold Shoulder

As a girl I never realized men and women were sometimes treated differently until my mom shared the story of the friendly neighborhood chauvinist who refused to take her seriously. After an outright demonstration of sexism, she decided not to take it anymore.

From then on, whenever she ran into the man she acted as if they’d never met, which meant my poor father had to “introduce” them over and over again. “Cory, you remember Mr. Smith,” he’d say, “he lives down the street.” My mother would extend her hand and say, “No, I don’t believe I do.” This was repeated at every neighborhood party, frozen food section encounter and Rotary Club fundraiser.

At the time I took a more direct approach – putting a dead squirrel on his windshield. Since then I’ve perfected my mother’s icy tactic.

Don’t Say No When You Can Say Yes

For such a strong willed woman, my mother gets roped into doing a lot of things. “Who else could possibly pick out the new church carpeting?” they ask her. “You’re the one for the job!”

Recently, I learned why. It’s the motto passed on to her by her father: why say no when you can say yes?

That motto’s the reason why when my mom has her energetic 3-year-old granddaughter for the weekend she also invites her angsty teenaged nieces, her daughter’s nervous boyfriend and son’s camo-clad fishing buddies over for pot roast. “If you’re going to Mordor,” she says, “you might as well go all the way.”

This leads me to the next lesson:

Always Have Cookies in the Freezer

That way, you’re prepared for the party that will inevitably gather in your kitchen. Make some tea, pull out the Ziploc of oatmeal raisins, turn on the stereo and you’ll win hostess of the year.

Fiercely Guard Your Clan

True to her roots, my mother is fiercely clannish. She grew up on an island in the Detroit River, a community about the size of Sturgeon Bay, and the Bohl family ruled the roost. They still do.

But after college, my mother married my father and followed him north to Midland, Mich., home of Dow Chemical. She left her clan, but she started a new one.

My immediate family is the clan, though we accepted the granddaughter with enthusiasm. When I get home for a few days and we’re finally all together, we hunker down. Nobody comes in the house, nobody goes out – we’re too busy talking around the kitchen table and laughing so hard the neighbors can’t fall asleep. And pity the chump who does one of us an injustice – that laughter turns to fire breathing in no time.

So thanks, Mom. Thanks for the “always say yes” mentality, the self-deprecating sense of humor, the frozen cookies, the cold shoulder and the Thompson clan.

And although I’m no longer willing to pose for such a picture, I hope you’re not done showing me what’s coming next.