Five ways my children are like me (and I wish they weren’t!)

This month’s Write Club challenge is to come up with five ways that our wonderful sproglets take after us.

Oh goodness – five just isn’t enough is it?! And don’t get me started on the irritating ways they’re like their father…

Whenever I moan about my children’s behaviour, my parents take great delight in reminding me that I was just as bad. “As ye sow, so shall ye reap,” has become one of my father’s favourite quotes. Because he’s a smug, um, person.

My parents certainly aren’t the only ones that do this – my great uncle is the same with his son and grandchildren; my mother-in-law when her daughter was complaining that her baby was irritable and cried a lot replied, “Well two cats don’t make a dog, do they?”, which probably isn’t the sympathetic response that my sister-in-law was looking for; one of our friend’s parents relishes the fact that her grandsons fight, so that her son can see what it was like for her… I think schadenfreude is the word.

I can’t wait until I’m a grandparent and can be as gleeful myself.

Anyway, on to the top five…

1. The temper

Everyone has always ‘joked’ that I have a temper to match my ginger hair.

My children are living proof that the two are not connected. They have light brown/dishwater blonde hair (sorry, kids, but it’s true) and their tempers are just as bad as mine. And my husband’s (who is also not ginger).

So, yeah, that’s fun.

Because do you know what makes my husband and I reach the end of our very short tethers more quickly than anything else?

It’s a toddler temper tantrum.

And breathe.

And count to ten.

And scream into a pillow.

And try breathing again.

Maybe count to 100?

2. The endless talking

I am a chatterbox. I talk all the time. To myself if necessary. Babies are great because you can natter away without seeming completely insane and they don’t answer back.

And then suddenly they do.

And they never shut up. Ever.

My mum used to tell me that I would fall asleep talking and then just pick up where I left off first thing in the morning. I thought she was exaggerating. She wasn’t.

Even when my daughter has nothing to say, she keeps up a constant stream of singing or, if that fails, just saying Mummy over, and over, and over again. In fact, if she’s silent it’s cause for concern. She’s probably found something dangerous and/or messy to do.

3. The tenacity

I’m sure this will be great later in life, but for the moment…

My son (almost 6 months) learnt to roll over this week.

Baby lying on his front, smiling — Very proud of himself

FINALLY.

After more than two months of spending every waking moment, starting from 5 in the morning, trying to roll over and whining when he couldn’t. (We’re also all really impatient, particularly with ourselves.)

Take a break, think about something else, come back to it. Like his sister. She tried to roll over, couldn’t, saw she had hands and decided just to look at those instead. Didn’t learn to roll until eight months old. Perfect.

But he couldn’t. Because he’s like me. And he had to keep trying until he got it right. Ugh I annoy myself.

4. The memory like an elephant with a really good memory (or like mine was pre-pregnancy)

Especially when it comes to where she’s been given stickers in the past – going back for well over a year. I mean, it’s lovely of people to give her stickers and everything, but then she expects them every time – and usually she doesn’t get one again, cue tantrums.

And with food – my daughter won’t eat pasta because when she was 14 months old she ate pasta shortly before being sick. Up until then she loved the stuff. Now (almost 1 1/2 years later) she’ll only eat gluten-free – proof if you needed it that gluten-free substitutes are nothing like the real thing.

In a few months I expect she’ll be quoting conversations back at me as proof that she should be allowed to do such and such, just like I did. Fantastic.

5. The stubbornness

Oh, my goodness, the stubbornness.

I’m stubborn as a mule. My husband is as stubborn as a mule. My parents are as stubborn as mules. His parents are as stubborn as mules.

Our children had no chance.

But, hey, nothing gets the day off to a good start like an epic power struggle over whether your toddler is going to eat her breakfast or not. Or get dressed. Or brush her teeth. Or go to the loo. Or get her shoes on. Or walk to the car. Or get in the car. Or sit in her car seat. Or have her seatbelt fastened.

So there we have it. My children have what I think are politely termed strong personalities, and I have nobody to blame but myself (and my husband).

Why not have a look at these blogs to see how other parents feel their offspring are following in their footsteps?

Me, Them and the Others

Twins, Tantrums and Cold Coffee

The Incidental Parent