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You Kinda Look Like Me {Revisited}

I am currently on maternity leave and using this time on the blog to share some guest posts and favorites from the archives. This post was originally shared May 2012. I am looking forward to see what traits I may have passed on to Isaac!
 
Take a look at that driver's license picture and tell me yours is not good. Every time I look at it I hear the news caster in my mind: "The child was last seen with this woman….” My face is flashing on the mental screen.

I love to pass this photo around because people never know exactly how to react. I can make fun of it… but are they allowed?

Did I just wake up? Am I wearing a shirt? I mean, what is going on here? I did tell one of my co-workers I was going for a serial killer look. She laughed and said matter-of-factly, “You nailed it.”

It's cool. I have long known that I'm not super photogenic... this was no earth-shattering news at the DMV. I smile too big or I look too serious or my eyes are crazy.... it happens.

Still, when I look at this image, something new has come to light that I never saw before. It is with deep joy and wild enthusiasm that I share some long-awaited and highly-sought after news. I have finally discovered a trait that I have passed on to Gabriella.

It hasn’t been easy. From the moment she was born, all I have heard is “She’s like a little Billy!”  Yes, what every mother wants to hear after she awakens from baby surgery is “Are you sure she’s yours?” I mean, technically, I couldn’t be certain. 

After a few too many jokes about how I hoped to go to sleep and wake up a mother, I was transported to 1960 and was having a twilight sleep birth.Whoops... I guess I should be more clear with the doctors next time. Clearly, my brand of humor is not appreciated... or understood.

One of my only memories from my foggy, drug-induced state was telling Billy to “follow that baby and put a ‘Q’ on her foot.” It’s strangely comforting to know that even when my system has been compromised I’ve still got a place for paranoia… and nice to know another circumstance when a Sharpie comes in handy.

But I don’t care about her favoring her father because… well, they’re both cute. And besides, I was holding out for my own secret prize: Handedness. Is that a word? Oh, I love being left-handed. Forget the pencil smudges and cursed spiral notebooks... (will my daughter even know what these ancient writing methods are?) Being left-handed is worth any diner booth rearrangements or scissor mix-ups in Sunday School. 

Surprisingly, I often find myself in both work and personal circles that tend to be dominated by left-handers. Yes, we dominate.

We do not, however, dominate in the game that is genetic roulette. Since Gabriella has recently taken to coloring, I am devastated to observe that she keeps grabbing the crayon in her right hand… no matter how many times I try and shove it into that little left one. It turns out I have nothing to offer her but a big pile of recessive traits.

But this week… it happened. She went with her father to the YMCA and had her ID picture taken. Whereas I imagine he smiled adorably and produced a socially appropriate happy photo, Gabriella did not mirror that trait in her papa. Nope, she followed her mother's lead. 


Now… is that a baby you’d like to meet in a dark alley? I don’t think so! That’s my baby! And how do I know? Look at that face… no one can learn how to take an ID picture like that. It’s gotta be genetic!

What traits have you been surprised to pass on to your kids?

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2 comments

  1. This post made me laugh out loud. So far, all of my little guy's genetics seem to have come from Dad. Congrats on the new super cute baby!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks so much, Heather. Watching our little ones to see which traits they've inherited is so much fun!

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