The next week promises to be full of lots of reflecting because (gulp) my baby will be ONE in 8 days. (I say that like it’s something new when all this journal really ever contains are random reflections anyway.) Anywho…..I dug up some baby photos and here’s what I found.
me at 12 months
and Jude at 11 months and 2 weeks
I remember when Jude was something like 10 days old and I was hormonal and overwhelmed with the weight of so many things at that point (aren’t we all?) and a visitor came to our home and uttered these exact words, “Well, Katie. I’m sorry. He’s a spittin’ image of his daddy. I mean he looks just like Scott did as a newborn.”
Really? Because I just withstood 9 months of discomfort. 8.5 months without a damn cocktail. Then 16 hours of completely unmedicated labor. Then 3.5 hours of attempting to push this kid out of my vagina. Oh yeah, then a major emergency surgery followed. And I’m currently his sole source of nutrition, but whatever. He has none of my genes? That’s cool. No biggie.
I admit that I was hormonal and anything but rational at that time, but please be forewarned never, never tell a new mama the baby doesn’t share her traits at all. Because even if he doesn’t, she needs to feel like he does. For a short while anyway. (Am I the only crazy one who feels this way?) And who knows? The characteristics might show up later like Jude’s did.
The truth is there are aspects of me that I hope to pass on to my Jude – my hair color, my tolerance of things that are different from me, my love for good music, my picky-eaters-are-unbearable philosophy, my appreciation for roots and all things southern and homey, my ear for poetry, and my love of books.
But there are things I don’t want him to get from me either – my at times ridiculously overactive imagination, my tendency to blush, my inability to say no to chocolate or pushy people, my excessive worry.
I’m hoping he inherits Scott’s humor, his intellect, his love for travel, his loyalty, and his decent singing voice without picking up that gene that inspires a passionately undying love of Star Wars.
I guess I am hoping we somehow pass down all that is best of ourselves to him. But isn’t that what all parents hope for?
So mamas (or future mamas), what do you hope your little ones get from you? What do you hope they don’t?