I Am My Mother's Daughter

There were times growing up when I wished that I was adopted.  I had hoped that somehow, possibly this woman's genes would not become my own.  That I could rightfully say "No! She is not my mother!".   I mean doesn't every child or teenager wish this at some point?  Alas, there is absolutely no doubt about it.  I am my mother's daughter. 

People that know my mother instantly recognize me as her daughter by my facial structure and if that doesn't click with them, as soon as I let out a laugh they recognize the connection.  I have inherited her sensitive skin, her forgetfulness, her ability (if you can call it that) to ask a question and never hear the reply.  I have inherited her stubbornness, her refusal to admit to pain or sickness if it means having to pass on a much loved activity, especially if that activity involves kayaking.  I have inherited her overwhelming curiosity to poke my head into every cave and tunnel and to ride every pour over without thinking of the possible consequences beforehand, and to urge others to follow, because in my mind if I can do it surely they can too.  Thankfully, I have also inherited my father's cautiousness, with often over rides this urge!

But sometimes it is good to be my mother's daughter and I am thankful to take on some of her traits.

Mother/Daughter Synchronized Rolling

I was able to view this in slow motion.  Not only is the roll synchronized but we roll in the exact same way from the stroke, sweep then brace (which is what we think we do, when we really created a combination of the two and made our own stroke), to how we roll up on our back decks. 

Is it possible to be too much like your mother???