Boy, long disclaimer this time...Ok, I am finding that as my son gets older (he just turned 5 last week) that he is turning into quite a little man. I know this because his behavior is resembling my husband's more and more with each passing day. Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE LOVE LOVE both my husband and my son, but they they occasionally both drive me nutso (come on, you all feel this way about your family...and for those of you who deny it, you are full of mud)...And I am noticing that the ways in which they are driving me nutso are becoming more and more alike all the time.
I will give you an example of what I mean. Here is a frequent conversation between my husband and I:
Me: HONEY, can you grab my black flip flops off of the floor of my closet?
Him: What?? (the selective hearing will be addressed later in the post)
Me: MY BLACK FLIP FLOPS
Him: Yeah, what about them?
ME: CAN YOU GRAB THEM?
Him: Where are they?
Me: ON THE FLOOR OF MY CLOSET
(By this time I could have had them, put them on and arrived at my destination)
Him: Ok
**MANY minutes pass**
Him (walking down the steps carrying a pair of brown shoes): These?
Me (huffy): NOOOOOOOO...forget it...I will get them
Him: Honey, you know I am no good at looking for things
My beloved and I have had this discussion many times before. His argument is always the same "Why do you keep asking me to look for things that you KNOW I am incapable of finding"? My answer is usually something to the effect of "I guess I keep holding out hope that you may someday actually come through for me and find what I asked for". I TRULY believe that he sees the item I ask for and brings me something else simply because he HOPES I will get disgusted and never ask him to go and get me anything ever again. Logical, right? Wrong...I wasn't born yesterday. I will ask until the day I die.
Here is a recent conversation with my son...see if you can find the similarities:
Me: #2 (I don't actually call him that, but I don't want you to know his real name...LOL), please come and get your shorts on. They are here in the living room.
#2: What?
Me: PLEASE COME AND GET YOUR SHORTS ON IN THE LIVING ROOM!
#2: What about my shorts?
Me: COME AND GET THEM ON
#2: Where are they?
Me: IN THE LI-VI-NG RO-OM (I speak in syllables sometimes hoping that he might understand a little easier...hasn't worked yet, but it at least lets him know I am near my breaking point)
#2: OK! (Slllooowwwlllyyy comes down the steps)
Me: Get them on!
#2: Where are they?
Me: Right there on the floor
#2: I don't see them
Me: #2...they are right THERE...RIGHT THERE...UNDER YOUR LEFT FOOT!!!!!
#2: Well, I didn't see them (in a tone that may indicate that it was MY fault that he didn't see them!)
Ok, do you see a theme? Really. It is amazing. I have another...actually I have a ton more similarities between my husband and his mini-me, but I will limit myself just the one you have already read.
Now, I need to say a few positive things about the men in my life as not to offend them OR give anyone the idea that I am not totally in love with them both.
Things my husband has taught my son that I am actually HAPPY about:
***To pee in the potty standing up (and actually hit the bowl)
***To take his plate to the sink
***To treat me with nothing but respect (BIG points for Daddy here)
***A complete understand of all things Star Wars and superheroes (of which I have no interest)
***The E-A-G-L-E-S chant which helped him learn to spell him name by putting his own letters to the same tune (he STILL can't just SPELL his name...he must CHANT his name)
***To respect his sisters and all women...another gooder (as my friend, Kate would say)
***The lyrics to Kung-Fu Fighting...HILARIOUS...He actually taught the girls too...they do a little trio thing where even speech-delayed #3 throws in her well-times "Hy-AHs"
The list is truly endless, but I thought I would throw a few out there and let you know that my boys are GREAT (even though they can't see when looking for something or hear when I speak directly to them). I love them!
Then there is my firstborn. She is MY girl. She is witty and loves to dance. She has a great sense of humor. She can chat with absolutely ANYBODY about almost ANYTHING (even superheroes and Staw Wars). She has some of the best communication skills of anyone I have ever met. And she looooooves babies.
Now, let me tell you a bit about me. I am sometimes said to be witty and I LOVE to dance. You can decide for yourself if you think this blog is amusing. I can chat with ANYBODY about almost ANYTHING (except superheroes and Star Wars). I would say my ability to communicate is pretty stellar (I LOVE to talk). And I REALLY love babies. I have always loved babies. When I was younger I couldn't walk past a baby without making a scene. Mother's LOVED it.
I would entertain their little ones for as long as they would let me. As a mother myself I now understand what a blessing I was to those women. #1 is the same way. I can't tell you HOW many people tell me they wished they could have her because she is such a help. Well, they can't have her, but I have a few others at home that on some days I may be willing to part with! (Go back up and re-read the disclaimer if you are passing judgement!)
**Others have said that #1 and I both possess "diva-like" tendencies"...hence the shirts made for us for Christmas by a family member...Mine says DIVA and hers says PRINCESS***
A lot of people have also stated that they can see ME pouring out of my off-spring in this particular picture:
It is so strange to see yourself in someone else. I mean, #1 is SO much like me as a child. I was VERY VERY talkative...ummmm, yeah, not much different than now really. The other day I talked to my Hair Wizards mom(who hangs out in the shop) sooooo much while getting my hair done that she finally, rather abruptly, said "Well, I have to run to Wal-Mart for that thing"...I think I ran her off. Thank God it was only Hair Wizard's mom and not another customer. My talking may actually be bad for business. Maybe I need to address that lesson with #1...save her some trouble. Regardless, she is my girl...And unlike a lot of people who are very much alike, we get along just fine...but remember, she is 7...we can talk again when she is 13.
And then there is little #3. She has managed to pull personality traits from Dave and I both...but, really, she is most like my mother.
My mom is a coffee drinker. BIGTIME. And it isn't a caffeine addiction. She is addicted to DECAF coffee. Guess who else is addicted? Yep, #3. The child can't even begin her morning without coffee in the old sippy cup (Note: Here is a warning - If you put coffee in a sippy cup and it is too hot, the pressure makes it SPRAY out of the spill-proof spout...I know this from experience). I get A LOT of strange (read: judgemental) looks from people when they see #3 with her little Starbucks cup filled with java. Truly...it's ok.
Regardless, they are two peas in a pod, my mom and #3. Along with being a coffee addict, my mother is a clean-FREAK. I call her a freak (in the best possible sense of the word) because her level of cleanliness is quite foreign and a bit scary to me. Sometimes when I don't put things right where they belong I can still hear her voice from my childhood (ok, AND adulthood) saying "There is a place for everything and everything in its place". UGH! Anyway, it is a joke with my dad and Dave and I that we can always tell when we've done something wrong because my mom gives us the "Grandma huffy breath". She uses it frequently when we don't put our dishes in the dishwasher at her house...Huffy breath...SLAM the dish into the dishwasher...mutter...Huffy Breath. Well, thanks to my dear mother, a certain 2 year old now gives ME the huffy breath!! That's right...she gives HER OWN MOTHER the huffy breath!
Just the other night we were eating ice cream (the kids ate theirs in the kitchen, but being the "server" I ate mine in the living room while we watched a family show). I finished and sat my bowl on the floor below the couch (I was GOING to take it to the sink at the next commercial break...I SWEAR). No joke, the child looked over, gave me the Grandma huffy breath, slid off the couch, picked up the bowl, put it in the sink, climbed back on the couch, looked over and gave me the SECOND huffy breath! UNBELIEVABLE!!
Another example: My parents have chocolate brown carpet in their living room (something only people without small children could have). She vacuums almost obsessvely, but it is what happens IN-BETWEEN vacuuming sessions that is really key here. EVERY TIME (I kid you not) she passes through that room she bends over into this "stooped" position (bending mostly at the waist, hiney in the air) and brushes her hand across the carpet gathering "loose fuzzies" to throw away. There is a whole technique to it: Brush back and forth 4 times with a flat palm and the pick up with only the fingertips...take a little step...repeat. And, having witnessed this action so often my little obsessive-compulsive spawn now walks around and gathers "loose fuzzies" off of our carpet as well (she has her work cut out for her, let me tell you). She walks in the same hunched-over manner which causes me concern for her posture. It is really incredible how well she mimics the act.
But, finally, after two of her own children and her first two grandchildren my mother has FINALLY found someone who not only understands, but shares, her obsession. Way to go, Mom.
And, as I mentioned before, even though #3 closely resembles my mother, see if you can figure out how she most resembles me from the following pictures:
ME:
#3:
Yep, I am THAT mom (and apparently so was my own mother) who takes photos of her tantruming children.
So, as my children get older, I know that they will become more of their own person with their own ideas, but for now I take pride in knowing that they must be absorbing SOMETHING from their parents and grandparents even if it isn't what we say and do, but rather HOW we say and do it!
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