I remember the day. Oh, do I ever. I was probably about 7 months pregnant at the time; bitchy, big, and on the verge of being sick yet again. I suppose I was taking my uncomfortableness out on her and I was not very nice to be around, most likely. In fact, I must have been downright untolerable for her to have done it to me. To give me the curse.
Yeah, you know it. That curse that accompanies parenthood that goes like this, "I hope that you have a kid who is just like you."
My daughter Kole, is very much her own person, but having said that, she certainly has a lot in common with me.
We have wicked tempers. I recognize the signs when she's about to throw a fit simply because I react the same way, from time to time. Quick to anger, but luckily, we both get over ourselves pretty quickly as well. We are both pretty messy people. I find it pretty hard to complain about boots and mittens being left in the hallway, because usually, mine are right their with hers. And she's a tease. She likes to bug me, especially when she's bored and I'm working on my writing. Can I fault her for it? Nah, because I pretty much do the same thing when she's trying to get to sleep. I actually poke, prod and tickle her so that she'll stay up longer with me, sometimes.
There are so many similarites that we share that are both good and bad. The end result being, I wouldn't change anything for the world. Yeah, we are friends. Yeah, we have our problems, but even though my mom 'cursed' me, I am pretty glad that she did, after all. It's taught me about myself, it's taught me about what makes my daughter the way she is, but mostly it's taught me about love and self-acceptance. She's not a carbon copy of me by any means, but I am glad to be able to see the things that we have in common, and it's not all bad.