I will always extol the awesomeness of my son. I find him charming, funny and squeezable. Which is quite funny considering that for a big part of the early years of life I did not want kids. But him, him I adore with all my might. And he knows it too. But I am fine with him being completely secure in my love for him. When I found out that I was having a baby, I did not want to know the gender. It would be what it would be. My sister who was pregnant at the same time that I was, most definitely wanted to know the gender. And while she had initially thought that she wanted a boy, she was ecstatic when she found out she was having a girl. Why? Because she wanted a “mini-me.” I have found many of friends and acquantances to have desired a child that was their replica. I suppose that is meant to secure one’s legacy going forward.
I can imagine that had I had a girl, I would have dressed her up in purple and gotten her fierce shoes to wear. Maybe too many I probably would have gone bankrupt had I had a girl. While I didn’t want to know the gender beforehand, I did hope for a boy. And, luckily, that is what I got.
Now, just because he is a boy doesn’t mean that he cannot be a “mini-me.” He does have my face. And it is quite an awesome feeling to look at him and see me in him. We most definitely have some key things in common. We both love ketchup, cracking ourselves up and sleeping diagonally. But he is also most definitely not a mini-me. As he likes to remind me. He is, of course, his own little person. And he is also a tad bit different from me.
I am an extroverted introvert. He is an extrovert. He has no fear of immediately leading a crowd and team. I love to try all sorts of different foods and he is quite set on what his favorites are. I love soda and he hates it. Which is good for his health. So kudos to him. I like the Flash. He prefers Thor. He is my compliment. And that is such a wonderful feeling.