I hope you have a daughter 10 times as bad as you are…

It’s the curse our mothers put on us, and their mothers before them, and theirs before them, and way back until the beginning. (Or some other version of that)

I’m not exactly saying the curse worked. What I’m suggesting is that our children are us x 10. Like magnification. 

Our quirks become their mannerisms. They take who we are and watch it under a microscope as they grow. So they become us magnified. It’s what they know. It’s how they learn to be a person. 

Sure, they develop their own sense of self along the way. Tonight, as I was watching our daughter, I saw so much of my husband in her, but I realized she was overdoing it. She just wasn’t pulling it off. 

Too much. Words we repeat to our daughter over and over again. We are trying to teach her self moderation. You can’t just say and do what comes to mind. 

And sadly, if someone is ignoring you then you must just walk away and accept it. Don’t say their name repeatedly, getting louder each time. That’s too much. I can’t hardly hear in one ear from the accident so you do have to repeat my name over and over, louder each time. 

Every bit of who we are becomes every bit of who they will be. They sit there, watching you, absorbing everything like a sponge. They learn how to interact with you. They emulate you. And they become some version of your family, all mixed together in one mixing pot. 

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just my children. But I swear our quirks that rubbed off have become their neuroses. What do you think? Have you created a monster?

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