My Perfectly Imperfect Children

From the time I found out I was pregnant until my children were born, I spent months planning their lives out for them.  I would imagine what they would look like, how they would act, their interests and dislikes.  Boy was I in for a reality check!

As far as looks were concerned my daughter set the bar pretty high.  She really was a beautiful baby, even as a new born.  So you can imagine my reaction when my son was born and he was the wrinkly, alien looking thing, that is more often the norm.  I remember lying there on the operating table (I had him cesarean) and seeing him for the first time.  I hate to admit it, but the first thing that came to my mind was, "Really?? That is not what I expected."  He did however become very adorable once he filled out, his eyes stayed uncrossed, and his blotchy rash cleared up.

My daughter 1 day old

My son 1 day old

My son looking much more adorable

Personality wise, my sweet baby girl was nothing like I had planned.  She was suppose to be polite, cheerful, outgoing...you know, sugar and spice and everything nice?  I was so naive I want to laugh at myself.  Not that my daughter was an evil toddler, she wasn't.  Although, she was whiny and could turn on tears like the flip of a light switch.  Instead of being out going she was clingy, and the only person that "Her Majesty" would allow do anything for her was, of course, Mommy.   She had also inherited her father's temper and my stubbornness, a lethal combination for any parents' patience!

My daughter "painting"

With my son I had less expectations in advance having learned previously from my daughter.  He turned out to be a sweet and loving baby, but apparently he didn't understand the concept of "crying it out".  He could cry for hours if he was upset about something the only thing that calmed him down was being held.  Where my daughter loved to be sang to, my son gave me a complex.  Even as an infant he would start crying when I sang to him at night.  When he got older and I would sing fun songs in the car, he would start screaming "NOOOO, Dop it Momma!!!!"  I was, however, lucky that my son could occupy himself for long periods of time while my daughter needed constant intereaction.  On the other hand, things that came easy for my daughter such as language, my son struggled with.  At eighteen months old we had him evaluated for speech and in a pride swallowing moment, I had to admit that he would need special education services.

A very happy go lucky child.

As they got older I would often worry: Did I have the only five year old little girl with the attitude of a 15 year old diva?  Or was my son the only three year old that carried his sippy cup around like a security blanket, whose matchbox cars had the personalities of people, and used the "D" sound to start every word?  But as my children have grown into the little people that they are today, I have grown as well.  I have realized that no ones children are "perfect", especially mine.   It no longer matters to me that my son needs extra help with words and learning, I'm just happy that he is healthy and that there is a system in place to help him.  I have learned to sit back and take a deep breath when my daughter is upstairs having a tempur tantrum so explosive, that pictures start falling off the walls downstairs. I know I'm not the only one out there with a drama queen for a daughter.

My son in his sister's heels.

My daughter the "Diva"

 As life goes on I have come to terms that they may not become anyone close to who I had planned for them to be.  The best I can do for them as a parent is support them in their endevors. Yes, this means even when my three year old son puts on his sister's tutu and prances across the floor exclaiming "Look Mommy, I a Princess" I will be there to help guide them when they ask, and put in my two cents when they don't.  To love them, no matter what, because if I don't stick with them through the bad times, I can't appreciate the good times.  Most importantly try to stay sane along their journey to adulthood, as the saying goes "Grandchildren are Gods reward for not killing your kids!".

The moments that make it all worth while!