***Warning: This was written a while ago…Never posted because it wasn’t “perfect”***
My mom finally spent another weekend with me. I’ve been asking her to pick a weekend since her last visit like six months ago. She finally found time in her schedule to desert my dad and granny and come hang out with her baby girl. How they survived without her? They didn’t. And that’s all I’m at liberty to say on the subject lol.

She and I had a very quiet Friday night with me making quesadillas and salads while she tried to restrain herself from decluttering my counter top. Yes, she eventually did work her magic on my counter top (happy dance!). We watched a couple movies on my dvr and declared the night over. We’d both had long days at work, after all.

Saturday is the day that I’ve been recalling all week. I made us NutriBlasts (a combo of spinach, banana, protein powder, and peanut butter powder…don’t gag on mention of spinach; it truly does take on the flavor of whatever it’s with) and we proceeded to watch a little t.v., work out together, and get dressed (quite lazily, might I add) for an afternoon of shopping and seafood. When we finally got back, we showered and got back into our respective places around the t.v. We were watching some of my favorite shows  (mostly procedural/crime dramas), and my mama kept spoiling the endings for me! Granted, she was just saying what I was thinking before I could say it, but still! How dare she?! It wasn’t until after she left that I realized that 1. She’s sharper than I am. 2. We’re even more alike than I’ve already grown to think. 3. I also spoil shows/movies for people.

Realizing that you’re a lot like your mom shouldn’t be such a huge revelation, but it is to me. When I was a teenager (and even a bit in college), I went through periods of feeling like I was so different from everyone. I wasn’t as bubbly or gorgeous as my older sister. I wasn’t as innately sweet as my granny. I wasn’t as organized and giving as my mom. I wasn’t as mentally and physically strong as my dad. And I wasn’t able to balance my love of education and just being a “normal” teenager/young adult as my friends were. I felt out of place in the places where I didn’t believe I should. And often, feeling out of place and different led to feeling lonely.

It’s only now that I’m an adult with a decent range of experiences under my belt that I can fully appreciate who I am. I now realize that because I’m not like everyone else, I can love or care about or be friends with a wide variety of people.

My mom’s still teaching me life lessons, and she doesn’t even know it.

P.S. This post’s title is a play on Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. An awesome read. As are all of Albom’s pieces. Shout out to the Columbia College Honors Program for requiring me to read The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Albom for Freshman Orientation. It rides around in my car for traffic jam moments.