A Gift for Mom! 🤍

“We should have went yesterday,” my son said through a mouthful of granola this morning. 

“Gone,” I automatically corrected, throwing an expectant look at him across the breakfast table. 

“Gone, gone, gone,” he parroted. “We should have gone yesterday.” 

I nodded and knew for certain: the transformation into my mother was complete.

You see, when we were kids, my mom used the same strict grammar correction method on my brothers and me. Any time one of us made a mistake, she had us say the right word three times, then repeat the sentence correctly. We would roll our eyes as she insisted we’d thank her for it one day when we were adults with perfect grammar—then grew up to realize she’d been right. 

Now that I’ve assumed the role of the thirtysomething mother, I’m doing the same thing—proving what UK doctor Dr. Julian De Silva found in a recent study of 2,000 people: women become their mothers at age 33. 

Researchers found that in their early 30s, women notice themselves doing things like copying their mothers’ sayings and expressions, picking up the same hobbies, and even preferring to watch the same TV shows. 

Or, in my case, correcting her children’s grammar, a penchant for writing strongly-worded letters, and staying up well after the sun has set just to enjoy the quiet house. 

RELATED: Why Tired Moms Stay Up Late

The study found a big reason a woman starts to mimic her mother in her early 30s is it’s often the age she becomes a mother herself—so she naturally starts emulating the woman who mothered her. It’s also the age many of our mothers were when our earliest memories of them were formed. 

And hey, no complaints here—my mom is pretty fantastic.

If I’m going to start looking, acting, and sounding like someone else, there’s no one else I’d rather share similarities with. 

RELATED: I See My Mother in the Mirror

For his part, Dr. De Silva agrees. “We all turn into our parents at some point in our lives—and that’s something to be celebrated.” 

Don’t worry, the men in your lives are headed down the same road, too—just a few steps behind; the same study found men begin turning into their fathers at age 34.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Carolyn Moore

Carolyn has served as Editor-in-Chief of Her View From Home since 2017. A long time ago, she worked in local TV news and fell in love with telling stories—something she feels grateful to help women do every day at HVFH. She lives in flyover country with her husband and five kids but is really meant to be by the ocean with a good book and a McDonald's fountain Coke. 

The Hardest Part of Divorce Is Being Away from My Kids

In: Living, Marriage, Motherhood
Woman in driver's seat

I’ve written several times about how divorce has allowed me to find myself again, and how that version is even better than the one I was before I was married. All of that is still true. I am happier than I’ve ever been. More confident and sure of myself. I understand my emotions and how to handle myself when things get tough or scary. I am more grounded and calm than I’ve ever been. Truly, I have come out on top. I’ve received comments about how happy I look, how I’m “living my best life with kids only half the...

Keep Reading

I May Let Go of the Baby Things, but I’ll Hold the Memories Forever

In: Baby, Motherhood
Woman looking through closet of baby items

It’s easy to think of multiple sayings and mottos about how invaluable earthly possessions are. “It’s not what you have, but who you share it with” “Worry less about things and more about experiences” “Who cares what you have, you can’t take it with you when you go” And trust me, I know these to be true. I am not a hoarder of hotel pens or mini shampoo bottles or every receipt and coaster from my favorite restaurants. I don’t care much for name-brand shoes or designer purses, yet there are a few things I just can’t easily let go...

Keep Reading

Mom Showed Us Love that Lasts

In: Motherhood
Vintage photo of mother and three young kids

We moved a few years ago, and we had a closet that needed some reworking. In doing so, my husband found some old photos. He pulled out an album that held this vintage photo of my mom, my sisters, and me. It was probably circa 1983 when prints were made from Kodak. I actually don’t remember seeing the photo before. But I love it. In the photo, my mother’s eyes are shut with a blink because those were the days when blinks weren’t edited. It’s beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking about the captured connection. She was showing us something...

Keep Reading

This Is How I’m Raising My Sensitive Son

In: Motherhood
Little boy hugs a cat

When I was pregnant with my son, everyone warned me of what was to come. “Just you wait,” they’d say with an underlying schadenfreude, “you’ll never sleep again.” I fully expected sleep-deprived days and long, unrelenting nights, calming my son down from tantrums, trying to keep the peace with my marriage. But I got lucky—my son sleeps through the night, doesn’t throw tantrums, and my marriage is stronger than ever. I didn’t expect that, especially because I struggle with my own mental health and assumed I’d be in the weeds during my postpartum period. Now that my son is almost...

Keep Reading

It’s Time for Us To Start Talking about Menopause

In: Motherhood
Midlife woman selfie

Disclaimer: The information included below is not intended as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.   Menopause. Growing up, this was a mysterious subject spoken about in hushed tones. When I approached this transition, I didn’t know what to expect. It began during a dinner with old college friends. Suddenly, I was overcome by heat and nausea. I left early, missing time with friends I rarely see and the beer sampler I ordered. Driving back to the hotel, I realized I had my first major hot flash. This was just the start of unexpected changes. In the following...

Keep Reading

I Didn’t Know You Were My Last Baby When I Had You

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding newborn baby, black and white image

I didn’t know at the time that my last baby would be my last. Those late nights with little sleep. The days that felt so long, yet so full all at the same time. The pain that came with trying to breastfeed and wanting so badly for it to work. Learning who was truly there for you in moments that felt lonely. I didn’t know my body would never feel those first flutters again—or experience the emotional joy of meeting your baby face to face after nine months of waiting. I think that’s why I want so badly to experience...

Keep Reading

The Invisible Pain after IVF Stops

In: Motherhood
Woman holding pregnancy test with head in hands

There is nothing “basic” about stopping IVF and returning to the so-called natural route. There is no guidebook for what comes next. The protocols and procedures that once dictated every step suddenly disappear. The appointments, alarms, and instructions are gone—but the emotions and unknowns remain. There is no protocol for going back to the basics. When we decided to stop IVF and try naturally, I wasn’t prepared for how difficult this next part of our journey would be. During IVF, everything had structure. There were calendars to follow, medications to take at exact times, appointments that filled the weeks. There...

Keep Reading

The Final Out

In: Motherhood
Baseball game as seen through the fence behind home plate

Tonight I watched him step up to the plate for the last time. Play-offs. Single elimination. Down by one. Last inning. Two outs. And the batting lineup just happened to fall to him. Nothing prepares you for that. He took a breath. The weight of an entire lifetime spent in red dirt hinging on this moment. He set his face like flint to that pitcher. The ball left the glove, and he swung. Strike one. He stepped away. Reset. Tapped the base. Then set himself once more. He swung, hit a line drive, and sprinted headlong towards the base, setting...

Keep Reading

These Holy Small Things

In: Faith, Motherhood
Children sewing at machine

My 8-year-old-daughter has recently taken up sewing, to my simultaneous delight and chagrin. My delight because I too love sewing; my chagrin because her enthusiasm often outpaces my own abilities, namely, in the undertaking of tedious projects with no pattern. Take, for example, the cloth doll diaper we designed and stitched up together. Granted, the design was fairly basic to draw up and scale. But the minuscule nature of the work, both for my hands and head, was enough to throw me into existential questioning. It was one of those moments when you wonder how the sum of your life...

Keep Reading

The Pressure to Do Everything “Right” Is Crushing Us

In: Motherhood
Tired and stressed mother sits in hallway with toddler across from her, black and white image

I don’t remember when motherhood started to feel like a test I didn’t study for—but somehow, I’m always convinced I’m failing it. It’s in the quiet moments. Standing in the grocery store aisle, overthinking every label—organic, non-GMO, dye-free, free-range, grass-fed—like I’m one bad decision away from ruining their future…while also trying not to take out a second mortgage just to afford my ever-rising grocery bill. Sitting on the couch, wondering if the show they’re watching or game they’re playing is rotting their brain. Lying in bed at night, replaying the way I handled a meltdown, picking apart every word I...

Keep Reading