My middle child and I share a lot of physical similarities – our eyes, our nose, our fingers and toes, but as she grows older and more into herself, I am also learning that we share a lot of other similarities that span far beyond just the physical.
As a child, I could be described as overly sensitive, anxious and obsessive to say the least.
I have seen these traits in Ashton over the years, but they have grown more profound recently. The other night, I accidentally poked myself in the eye. It immediately turned bright red and started watering profusely. You would have thought my eyeball was hanging from its socket by Ashton’s reaction. She immediately hopped on her iPad and called my mother of all people.
My mom answered thinking she was just calling to chat about her day, but instead she was met with a crying almost 6-year-old who was so outwardly upset that she could barely form a sentence. She finally got the words out that I had poked myself in the eye and judging by Ashton’s reaction, of course my mom was probably also thinking that my eye was hanging out of its socket. Once Asthon calmed down enough to listen, my mom asked her to Facetime so she could see what was going on.
When my mother finally saw that my eye was still intact, she started laughing and said, “She is most definitely your child.”
It’s all cute when you hear people saying that your child is your ‘mini-me,’ but when they actually start acting like you… things get real.
I jokingly hung up with mom saying, “Well, I don’t want to parent myself.”
But like… I really don’t.
I have repeatedly said that I always want better for my kids. I want them to have more, and I don’t just mean things. I want them to have more opportunities. I want them to be better people, go further and accomplish anything and everything they set their minds to. I want them to have the best of me and not to inherit my struggles.
Not only that, but when we see some of our own traits (particularly the undesirable ones) displayed through our children, it can be very triggering. I have self-reflected more since becoming a mother than I ever have in my life.
I am no geneticist, so I cannot say whether these traits are something we were born with or something that is learned, but I am also self-aware enough to know that my child has witnessed me not handle situations the best I could have. She has seen me upset, anxious, angry and second-guessing.
But one thing I have learned is that I can use this as an opportunity to create a new path not only for her, but for me, as well. Instead of avoiding situations (like I usually do) that would make me anxious or uncomfortable, I have learned how to deal (for the most part) and hopefully set an example on overcoming these fears. I am not saying that I don’t enter unpleasant environments with shaky knees and sweaty palms, but that I am making an honest attempt. And that’s all any parent wants of their children- an honest attempt.
I have become less annoyed by these traits that we share and grown more empathetic. When she is anxious (even over something as simple as an irritated eyeball) I now have the ability to be more compassionate because I have been there. I know how it feels to be waved off and have someone play down your emotions. I can put myself in her shoes and relate to how she is feeling. That’s the silver lining, I suppose.
But the saying is true, “You never realize how weird you are until you have a kid that acts just like you.”
I have also apologized to my mother countless times for having to deal with me as a child because …. whew.
(Paige Gurgainers is a mother of three girls, publisher of Bienville Parish Journal and Claiborne Parish Journal and a digital journalist for Webster Parish Journal.)
