Growing up with a Jewish mother is a singular experience. And as I get old (my 30s are creeping up on me like my dad’s weird aunt at Thanksgiving), I am realizing more and more that I am becoming my mother, or, if not completely morphing into her, at least adopting several of her many neuroses and habits. And you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing.
The amount that these habits are predicated on my mom’s and my Jewishness is unclear — we could very well just be overly anxious people, but it’s nice to think that there’s something culturally binding, bigger than our family ties at work here (my dad’s Jewish too — it’s coming at me from both sides!). It also probably helps that we’re from New York.
But these habits aren’t limited to liberal, Jewish women from the greatest state in the U.S. I’m willing to bet they’re fairly universal. Or you might read them and just think I’m insane. In any case, here’s what I’ve adopted from my amazing ma.