Today we were at the pediatrician for Natalie's 18-month-old well check. Natalie is on the petite side, so the doctor was recommending a couple ways to bulk up. "Remember at this age, babies are like little mirrors," she said. "You probably have seen this already--how she wants to do what you do, repeat what you say, and she will probably want to eat off your plate, so feel free to put things there you want her to eat and let her go for it."
Little did the doctor know, she was voicing my anxiety of yester...month. Year. Life. I don't know. Not about the food. The mirrors. Have you heard this before? People will say things like, "Kids can be cruel." And then other people will say, "Kids can be mirrors." (Implying that kids pick up behavior that they see and try it out for themselves).
The responsibility of that--knowing that she is seeing and absorbing all of me, even the parts I don't want her to, has freaked me out in times past. (In times present and probably future, too.) I don't expect myself to be perfect, but at the same time I was wondering where I could not be perfect, so when Natalie inevitably picks up that foible, it'd be one I'd feel okay about.
Sorry for the braces, dear. Ugh. No. Exhausting.
The thing is, I don't care if she's imperfect.
I care that she is kind. I care that she loves and knows she is loved. I care about other good things.
So noooooow, when I try to harangue myself about anything--about putting too many vowels in woooords when I am wriiiiiting, about anything at all--it is hard not to think, "would I say this to me if I were her?"
She's ruined my haranguing.
Thank goodness.
And as she was running around the house shouting, "Heeeeyyy guuuuuuysss!" and "Happy baby!" I was feeling so grateful for that little mirror. Because guuuuuuysss! I may not be perfect, but I have good things, too.
Thanks for helping me like myself better, little.
Love you.
Little did the doctor know, she was voicing my anxiety of yester...month. Year. Life. I don't know. Not about the food. The mirrors. Have you heard this before? People will say things like, "Kids can be cruel." And then other people will say, "Kids can be mirrors." (Implying that kids pick up behavior that they see and try it out for themselves).
The responsibility of that--knowing that she is seeing and absorbing all of me, even the parts I don't want her to, has freaked me out in times past. (In times present and probably future, too.) I don't expect myself to be perfect, but at the same time I was wondering where I could not be perfect, so when Natalie inevitably picks up that foible, it'd be one I'd feel okay about.
Sorry for the braces, dear. Ugh. No. Exhausting.
The thing is, I don't care if she's imperfect.
I care that she is kind. I care that she loves and knows she is loved. I care about other good things.
So noooooow, when I try to harangue myself about anything--about putting too many vowels in woooords when I am wriiiiiting, about anything at all--it is hard not to think, "would I say this to me if I were her?"
She's ruined my haranguing.
Thank goodness.
And as she was running around the house shouting, "Heeeeyyy guuuuuuysss!" and "Happy baby!" I was feeling so grateful for that little mirror. Because guuuuuuysss! I may not be perfect, but I have good things, too.
Thanks for helping me like myself better, little.
Love you.
5 comments:
I love these bloggins Kimberly. I'm reminded of the good little things that have come to me from mirroring my big sisters. Even with the foibles, you are foib-less to me. :)
That is the cutest twinner picture ever!!!
Kimberly. I wish more people could be like you. Cute picture too. I love you.
Cute picture! If she's anything like her mommy, she will be a wonderful gift to the world.
Willie, you are the foib-less one.
Thanks, T Cakes, I love it.
I love you , too, Mama.
Ang, you are so kind. Thank you.
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