Images of myself

It's funny how when we have children, life ends almost seems to come full circle for us. Sometimes it's in your face and obvious, but other times it's small things that crop up, and make you think, "Oh wow. That's me". Whether we like it or not, to a certain extent, our children really are mini-me's.

My children are no exception.

While all 3 of my children have completely different mannerisms and personalities, which differs again from their mother and father, the reality is, they're still like each other. And like my other half. And like me. A lot. A whole lot. In a scary sort of way.

Physically, Teen is mostly me. Whether she likes it or not, this is fact (give or take a few features here and there that obviously pulled from the other half of her DNA). Fast-forward her into the future decades a few short years; add in a some grey hair (she'll need to have a daughter JUST like her to achieve that volume of grey that I sport at the ripe old young and tender age of 40-something), extra facial hair (seriously - I do NOT understand what the hell happens when us girls age, but the extra little hairs that have sprouted up on my chin and upper lip over the years is something else. Some of us gals could put some guys to shame during the Movember - goatee and all!), stretch marks, bags under her eyes, sun freckles, a few wrinkles and lines, and a whole lot of "fluff", and you'll have me - again. She just needs to look at pictures of me at various age points to know what she's going to look like (although for her sake, I surely hope she doesn't add in quite as much "fluff" as I have - that's a part of me I could do without). She completely sucked my gene pool dry, which means that Imp and Banshee were left to draw from My Other Half. And Imp did just that. He is a absolute clone of his Dad - it's almost frightening how much they look alike (seriously - if I didn't have such concrete and vivid memories of that pregnancy and delivery - I'd believe that my husband had participated in some sort of program to clone himself). Looking at pictures of the two of them, the only way to tell the difference is by the very distinct 1970's and 1980's clothing. Banshee is the odd one out in terms of physical looks. She doesn't look like me at all, AND, she doesn't look her Dad at all either. If I hadn't felt every second of her long, hard pregnancy and birth and the 'fix-it up' and long-time healing aspect of her delivery (I could tell you stories about tearing and stitches in places there never should be any of that, which will make you want to lock things up tight and never engage in any sort of physical, intimate contact again); and if she had ever left my sight in the days we were in the hospital following her birth, I think there would have ALWAYS been some sort of nagging worry that she had been switched at birth. As she ages, we see where her physical looks come from (her Dad's side - she bears an uncanny resemblance to one of her cousins).

So while I can't see any of myself in terms of looks in 2/3 of my kids, it's all driven into home that they ARE indeed mine by the way they act, talk and think. Teen is a bit of wild-card. She is like me in a lot of ways, but there are certainly things that are definitely not me, nor my other half. Some of these things haven't been spectacular to experience and some have left me scratching my head wondering where the hell she came from. It's these times that we completely blame the "other part" of her genetic make up. For those not in the know, Teen comes from a previous "relationship". I hate to use the word relationship - because it wasn't really one. It was more of a being-trapped-and-I'm-terrified-to-leave-head-game kind of coupling. You know, a like-hate kind of thing - after several months when I figured it all out, it was actually very light on the like part, and very heavy on the hate part, but, I found out I was pregnant and felt my child deserved to have her "father" in her life, so I tried to hack things out and make them work - mostly setting aside my own mental health and stability in efforts to 'appease' him. Was it what I wanted? Absolutely not. By the time I was 6 months pregnant, I felt completely trapped and LOATHED that guy (I can't even call him a man - because in my eyes, he wasn't/isn't one). There wasn't a single positive thing I could say about him, but right before she was born, he made the decision to NOT move into the bigger apartment we had got - and paid first and last months rent on - and...that my friends was the beginning of the end for "us". I rode that window of opportunity the second it was granted to me. I moved in on my own; gave birth to Teen; he was hardly involved, and visited less and less each week (I can't say I was upset over that either - the less he was around my child, the better - I can't tell you how scared I was that I was ever going to have to leave my child alone with him - honestly - I get why some parents take their children and flee - I truly do - had I been faced with having to grant him alone visitation with my child, I might have been forced to face that head on as an option. Actually, it probably would have been my only option. There is no way in hell I could have EVER allowed for him to be alone with my child - I'm 100% positive that her well-being would have come last - and it scares the hell out of me considering the 'what-ifs'); and the people who lived above me were crazy and the police were there often, and after one specific incident I decided that I needed to do what was right for my child and ME, so I moved home with my parents. He (they - his parents and grandparents as well) came and occasionally visited. Even though we were not anything anymore, he still tried to use his 'hold' over me, but I wouldn't participate. Eventually he stopped calling (thank God). I felt sorry for him - I truly did. I may have even felt pity towards him. He had serious mental health problems - but until he was willing to help himself (and his parents perhaps pulled their heads out of their asses and acknowledged how serious it was and forced help on him - seriously - he could have afforded some tough love and a long-term mental institution stay), there was nothing I could do to help him. I realized that by participating in his stuff, I was only enabling him, and since I had a child that needed me to be strong and to set a good example for, I had to walk away and move on entirely, eventually needing to seek out legal advice. I don't really like talking about that dark and grim time of my life - it brings back A LOT of emotions and memories that I'd like to keep repressed, however, it IS part of the story of my life (and hers), so it's always going to be there. BUT...again, I regress. I AM thankful for the beautiful daughter he gave me, and eventually he made ONE right decision in his life and signed off his parental rights, which allowed my other half to adopt her, so...in the eyes of the law, she is 100% OUR (my other half and I) child. SO...I like to neatly (and quietly - it's only between my other half and I that it's discussed) blame all her negative behaviours on him. It works for me! Anyway, she likes to think that she is nothing like me, but there are things that she does and says that make me smile knowing that she is just like me. She is stubborn, and has a bit of a warped personality - although there is another side of her that is completely my other half (it's all nurture vs nature). There are times where things happen, and her and I catch each others eyes and we know the other is thinking exactly the same, possibly inappropriate thought. Sometimes, when she's losing her shit patiently dealing with her brother and/or sister, I hear myself coming out of her mouth. The same tone, the same words - the whole enchilada. Ironically, I also hear my own mother through all that. When I hear her talking with her friends, I totally hear myself. She deals with stress and frustration the same way I do, and sometimes, I have to step away and stifle laughter when I hear her. I know that what she's doing/saying is SO unproductive and ineffective, however, on the other foot, I know that she's just venting and it makes her feel better in the end, so, I just smile, give her lip action to soothe her, and in the end, she comes around and figures it out. That is all me. And the sarcasm. It's just starting to form, but for me, it was the same way-once I hit university, I was able to channel sarcastic me - and I've fine-tuned it ever since. And then her reaction to certain things like mice, bugs, spiders - all me. Her over the top, dramatic reactions to situations? Me, me, me. Her rationalizing things - it's all me. Sometimes it's hard to see this - because it's an in your face tell of the not-so-glamorous parts of me, but for the most part, I just smile and nod - mostly because she denies that she's anything like me.

Imp is quirky, and that's all him. It's definitely what makes him, him. He is also very, very smart. His mind is full of information - he has the ability to retain much of what he hears in class, what he reads, what he sees/experiences, and what he hears around him and from TV/movies, etc., and can recite it and inject it into conversation when needed. He's also stubborn. When something gets into his head, he is NOT happy until he's dealt with it - one way or another. Sometimes when I hear him talk, I totally hear myself. Mostly it's the bad stuff - you know, like when he retains the words that may have fallen from my face in the heat of the moment (or when he should have long been asleep - this is the kid that has eavesdropped on conversations between my other half and I long after he was expected to be asleep) and then goes ahead and drops the F-bomb at the church toddler room supervisor, or when he chirps at the drivers around us (he totally says what is on the tip of my tongue). One of our personal "favourites" was during Christmas holidays when he was quite young. One particular day, the kids were over the top and I was over-worked, feeling underappreciated and unhelped, and eventually lost my mind and had a mommy-tantrum. I may or may not have mumbled to my other half what my feelings were at that point - words that were supposed to be between my other half and I, ONLY - I heard myself - loud and clear - a few days later on Christmas Eve when the kids were COMPLETELY spun and both my other half and I were frazzled and I was starting to quickly unravel, and Imp walked up to me and calmly delivered a hearty, "Merry Fucking Christmas, eh Mom?". He delivered in exactly the precise, exasperated tone I had mumbled it to my other half a few days earlier. He was very much a mimicker, and I would often hear myself. In my daycare years, I would hear him trying to rationalize with an upset child - using my own words, and sometimes when the tables were turned and *I* was upset over something, he would spoon-feed my own words to me. My favourite was when I would get a call from the principal or teachers and they would tell me what he said, and honestly, it often took all I had to keep it together, because it's all me falling from his face. Others may not always see it - because he mostly delivers it as a matter of fact statement, where I'm more of a sarcastic deliverer, however, the message is exactly the same and still bears the same meaning.

Banshee. Now Banshee is ALL me. Period. The whole deal. Although she bears absolutely no physical resemblance to me, you only need to talk to her for 1 minute before you realize that I'm tucked inside every crevice of her mind and heart. She is warped, sarcastic, smart-ass witty, stubborn, determined, strong-willed, basket-case emotional, sensitive, talkative, and is downright hard to deal with sometimes. She is the one I struggle the most with. Our personalities are so similar, so when we have to face an issue, it gets heated and emotional very quickly. She is SO me and to be quite frank, it's hard to deal with yourself (in a smaller package). Like me, she uses the words "because" to start a sentence often as a way to add humour to a potentially stressful or tense moment, you know, like "because socks with dog poop belong on the dining room table" or "because stepping in dog poop in my bare feet on a carpet inside the house is totally normal" (can you tell that we have had a few dog poop issues in our house?). She goes from completely level-headed to emotionally charged in seconds flat. She is quick-tempered and flies off the handle in a mellow-dramatic way that rivals me perfectly my younger, unrefined years. She is downright determined to complete/achieve things, and the statements of frustration that fly out of her mouth are 100% me. And the sarcasm?! Holy smokes - she's almost better at it than me. There are times where she says exactly what I was going to say - except she says it first. AND...like her sister, when something happens I can catch her eye and know exactly what she's thinking. The only difference at this point is that she still needs to work on her filter...sometimes she spouts off something, which while it is very true, and very fitting at the moment, sometimes it's entirely inappropriate and not welcome at the moment. She can come out with comments/statements that leave you wondering if she complimented, slammed or completely lambasted you. She's good. She has also become a little mother hen. Even though she is the youngest, she comes off like she's the oldest and has some sort of air of authority. She dictates things to us all, and while we parents re-direct her, and her older sister shuts it down pretty quickly, she DOES sometimes get somewhere with her brother. And her commentary about things as they happen? All me. Her outlook and opinions are very similar to me as well. And competitive. Oh my word, she is competitive. EVERYTHING is a competition for her. And the singing...she can spontaneously burst into song and turn any situation into a sing-fest. She really is me - and then some. 100%.

So, while I am not intentionally creating mini-me's - I want my kids to develop their own outlooks, opinions and thoughts about things - they still are picking up attributes of us. It's actually quite fun to see. Sometimes it drives me completely batshit crazy it's trying to deal with myself in a smaller package, but...it's neat to know that they DO listen and have learned things from us (regardless of the inappropriateness of some of it).

AND...it gives me hope that down the road when they have their own children, they'll get a taste of what it was like to raise them.