PICK UP YOUR FEET
My mom would have kittens when I scraped my feet as I walked. I soon learned to walk properly to avoid being picked up and made to walk the right way. Now if I hear someone shuffling along I want to go over to that person and tell them to PICK UP THEIR FEET. Flip-flop season is very hard on me.
Mom was right, though. My shoes last a whole lot longer now that I’m not wearing out the soles.
Making lists. My mother would sit at the kitchen table every Sunday morning pounding coffee and cigs making weekly to do lists - one for her, one for my father, one for each of us kids, simultaneously making the grocery list of stuff she knew she needed. She’d do a pantry, fridge, and freezer inspection with steno pad (and cig) in hand after that. All the while, Dad was fixing brunch. The lists were taped to the fridge to be completed by Friday. (yes taped, my brother used the old it fell out from the magnet and somehow slide under the fridge excuse one too many times).
I do the inspections and make the lists while cooking brunch (only because nothing my husband cooks is edible) and drinking coffee (no cigs). All to do lists, except mine, are on a dry erase board mounted in the laundry room. My to do list is tucked safely away in my steno pad, as are copies of the boys’ once they got old enough and figured out how to erase that board.
What didn’t stick was ‘you need a nice robe and a good pair of slippers in case someone comes to the door early on Sunday.’ I figured if I was getting up, I might as well just throw on sweats. Besides in my house, if you come over early on Sunday, the cat might be awake to look at you through the window.
Was he from New England? If a New Englander is more than ten minutes late, they are officially pronounced dead.
My mother, by no virtue, taught me that just because someone is related to me by blood is no excuse to allow them to poison my life. Everyone, even a mother, is ultimately human and as such can be completely dismissed if they are toxic individuals who have no place in my life.
My father, on the other hand, taught me more than I could ever relate to you all. The biggest things that stuck (that are similar to those in this thread) is that honesty, while it can be scary and painful, is always the best policy.
He also taught me to be a gracious hostess. When I invite someone into my home – they are a guest. If a guest wants a drink, I will get it for them, no matter how many times they have been in my home. Repeat for snacks, fresh towels, aspirin, etc.
My father also showed me that just because a person has dirty hands, clothes or house doesn’t mean they’re a bad person – it just means that their priorities do not dictate being judged by the state of cleanliness of their surroundings.
I can split, cut and rack a rick of wood and use it later to start a fire because my dad thought that was important – and it may well turn out to be. I plan on installing wood stoves during the summer. With 8 wooded acres, we have enough deadfall to heat our home for a few winters for nothing more cost than the time and sweat to cut it. Thanks, Dad!
My mother taught me that indeed, it would not kill me to put on a little blush or mascara before leaving the house.
My mother also taught me how to make piecrust, how to make a house a cozy nesty home, and how to tactfully accept a horrendous gift. (OH WOW!..It’s a (NAME OF THING)!)
My mother taught me the basics of how to make Napalm.
She incouraged me to learn about improvised explosives.
She taught me the basics of shooting (iron sights only. still can’t shoot with a scope).
My mother missed being a bomb throwing anarchist by about 5 years and 1500 miles, but my childhood was… unique.
“Hospital corners” when you make a bed.
I don’t use the top sheet anymore as an adult, but when I’m making up my guest bed, it’s all about the hospital corners.
How to make a grilled cheese sandwich. Never use pre-sliced cheese. Chunks of Velveeta that you cut yourself make a much better, cheesier sandwich. And GRILL the sandwich; people and restaurants who make toast and then melt cheese on it do not know what a proper grilled cheese sandwich tastes like!
Don’t chop lettuce; tear it. Otherwise it wilts and turns brown.
A man should not extend his hand to a woman to be shaken; she extends her hand or there will be no shaking involved. (Nobody believes this anymore, but it still crosses my mind every time a man offers me his hand to shake.)
Guests are told to make themselves at home, and are treated that way, but if you are a guest you do not ever make yourself at home. You must always remember that you are a guest, with triple the politeness and courtesy you’d display at home.
Junk mail can be left in huge piles for an indefinite period of time. (This is not something she intended to teach me, I’m sure, but it’s a habit she has–she always has a basket crammed with mail she hasn’t sorted through–and I’m the same way.)
Sometimes in order to look good, you have to wear the world’s most uncomfortable shoes.
My mom taught me the opposite, because if you stick all the spoons in the same slot, they’ll nest together and won’t get clean. Each slot must be a mixture of knives, forks, and spoons for proper dishwasher cleaning.
Then I discovered the shortcut to unloading the dishwasher, which is to have my two oldest kids do it. Good practice for sorting items for them.
My mom also taught me the proper way to iron a man’s dress shirt. I’m thankful that my husband never wears them unless someone has died, but I’m good at it when necessary.
I thought board rules were you had to post in English?
My Mom taught me lots of things:
The secret to making conversation is to ask questions.
Women like chivalry, and the few exceptions aren’t worth your time.
No matter how crappy things seem, if you keep working, things will turn out okay.
Keep your ears clean! (I’m obsessive about Q-Tips)
My mom taught me to crochet. She tried to teach me to knit, but I never could do it evenly. She taught me to make a blind stitch hem.
I have her angel food recipe and her pie crust recipe.
She showed the value of education by example – her own father would not permit her to attend college, although she was definitely smart enough. She was willing to work at a job she hated in order to be sure there would be money for my sister and me to do so. We went to the library every single week, and few things were more valued than books and learning.
We lived in a very non-diverse neighborhood. If there were any Jewish folks in town, I sure didn’t know about it. When I was in about 2nd or 3rd grade I came home one day and told my mother there was a new girl in our school – and she was COLORED! (That was the polite term in those days.) Mom spoke to me very sternly and seriously. “Don’t you *ever * forget that her skin is a different color, but on the inside she is *exactly * like you.” Being the weird kid that I was I started imagining the new girl’s muscles, stomach, lungs, and other insides, and pondered about that for a good while before I realized she was (also) talking about a person’s thoughts and feelings.
…You do know that’s actually bad for you, right? Earwax is there for a reason, keeps dust and other crap from getting further into the ear where it can do real damage. At best, a q-tip should be used just on the outer lobe of the ear and never in the ear canal. Far too many people can tell you stories about punctured ear drums and so forth from q-tip usage gone awry.
Marry for money.
Turn off the lights when you leave a room. My dad would say, “I only work for the electric company, I don’t OWN IT!” Now, I can’t stand it if there’s a light on in any room of the house without people in it. My husband would burn every light in the house at the same time if it were up to him, so I follow him and turn off lights seemingly continuously. It bugs me when I enter an empty room with the light already on in my house… what a waste.
What my father doesn’t know won’t kill him.
My mom taught me to embroider. She also taught me the value of a sunny disposition.
When choosing a line in a store, don’t pick the one that’s the shortest, pick the one that’s moving the fastest. Yeah, sometimes I ignore it…and regret it.
Mum taught me to knit, sew, crochet and cook - the first three I do with more enthusiam than skill, the last reverses the order.
She also taught me to stick with it, be poilte, get it done.
Dad taught me how to change a car tyre and a fuse. He taught me to toughen up and deal with it.
How much money?
Mom also taught me:
*that there’s always someone better/smarter/fatter/stupider than you, so don’t get too cocky/feel too bad.
*how to match colors and what patterns look bad, bad, bad.
*that stupid fashions aren’t worth following and comfort is non-negotiable.
*to keep your hair neat.
*it’s best to smile and nod when someone is rambling on, especially about politics, especially when it’s my dad.
*how to be a sarcastic wit. Ah, the hours we spent together mocking every random thing.