I am my mother's daughter.

It’s one of those cold New England days outside – the ones where the temperature is so low that even penguins think it’s too cold and the wind is sharp and cuts through your soul like a hot knife through butter.

I’m actually kind of glad, though. I was beginning to think winter had forgotten us altogether. We’ve been really fortunate and had mild temperatures (read: 30’s and 40’s), and I was worried that we wouldn’t have anything to complain about. But now that both the Sox and the Pats have betrayed our love (and don’t get me wrong – I don’t think either of those teams deserved to win the way they were playing), and we’ve had a miserably cold day, I think we’re on track to be able to keep that surly demeanor that New Englanders are so famous for in the winter time. =)

But that’s not the subject of this blog, really. I just thought I’d let you know we’d finally hit winter here. (PS – snow does not make it winter. It’s snowed here a couple times, but that doesn’t make it winter. It snows in May here. I wouldn’t really be shocked if it snowed in June sometime. The windy cold days like today are the ones that make it winter.)

In any case, speaking of the Pats losing….last night I confirmed what I have long held as a deep and sneaking suspicion: I have inherited my mother’s genetic makeup when it comes to sports-watching behavior.

An inherent part of our family’s lore is the story of my mother and the neighbors and the ball game. My parents lived in a house in Charlottesville that had a decent-sized yard, with some neighbors that also had a decent-sized yard. Now, the neighbors weren’t so far from us as our neighbors are now – we live in the country now and have good space, but for the city, these houses had a good 50 yards between them, I’d guess. Not bad, really. In any case, my parents were watching some sort of University of Virginia sporting event (a basketball game, most likely) and things were either very close or not going well for the ‘Hoos. In any case, much to their surprise, the doorbell rang. Turns out, the neighbors (who were friends with my folks) had heard my mother yelling and were concerned for my family’s safety. That’s how passionate my mom is when she watches sports: she gets so worked up and yells like she’s at the game, like she’s on the sidelines and the players can hear her, even when she’s in her own house, miles away. =) My dad loves to tell this story with a snicker, and I have to admit I’ve always loved it too.

Until last night, when I became my mother. I, too, have always been passionate about sports. I was that kid you see on TV at college games decked out in full team colors with the tattoos on her cheeks screaming and yelling at the ref to get some glasses. But I’m not sure I’ve done anything worthy of “disturbing the peace” when watching sports at home, until recently. Or, at least, I’ve ignored the fact that I’ve been a loudmouth. But last night, as I watched the Pats game with Jay and his roommate and his roommate’s girlfriend, I drew some stares from the folks in the room as I yelled out instructions to the players and expletives at the refs. And the funny thing is, I caught myself doing this, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from doing it. When I realized that the Pats didn’t deserve to win the game because they were playing atrociously (although I do believe that pass interference call on Asante Samuel was bulls**t), I decided watching the game was bad for my blood pressure and I decided to read a magazine and take a nap rather than work myself up for a lost cause. And again, I realized that this is what my mom does now – she’ll watch a game and if it’s not too exciting or stressful she’ll continue, but the moment she gets too worked up for too long, she’ll go read a book and take a nap.

I’m proud to continue such a fine family tradition of passion for our sports teams. I’m also proud to continue the tradition of naps. In the end, when I took a nap, I was ultimately not giving up on my team, but paying homage to Tom Brady, who himself took a nap before his first super bowl. =) And, of course, I was paying homage to my mother, who has taught me a great deal about passion, and also about when to know your limits.

Thanks, Mom. =)