Hello, do I know you?

The Ginger Ninja turns seven today!

The Ginger Ninja turns seven today!

This is my Ginger Ninja, and today he turns seven. Happy birthday son, I love you to the moon and back, and round the paddock a few times to boot!

He’s a wonderful kid, my boy, but there are times he’s about as different to me as I could imagine. Sometimes I struggle getting into his head, struggle to understand how he ticks, what motivation he needs, why he thinks the way he does.

Now, if I had a scanner and a few spare hours to go hunting through old family photos (neither of which I actually have) I would show you a picture of my husband when he was in kindergarten. Same hair. Same freckles. Same cheeky smile. When I remember this all the pieces suddenly click into place for me: I gave birth to a clone of my husband.

A friend of mine once told me that she had so many fights with her husband, didn’t understand him one bit, completely tried to turn him into another version of her–until she gave birth to a son just like him.

I get that. I’d never tried to change my husband, but boy her words helped me understand my son. And my daughter (my me-clone), and my youngest son (another version of me). And because of this I understand myself–my motivations, my reactions, my fears and my disappointments–better as well.

Sometimes I think this is the real benefit of having children: if we let them teach us, we can become better versions of ourselves.

How about you? Have you ever noticed your own personality–for better or for worse–reflected in your kids? Have you ever understood your partner better, or your parents, because of your kids?

Happy birthday baby!

The birthday girl

This precious bunny turns nine today. My firstborn. Can’t believe how grown up she is now, and how sweet. I went into labour early. Two weeks early, to be exact, which isn’t mean to happen with first babies – everybody knows that. My other half knew that, which is why he booked so many appointments leading up to her due date, “so I could get them out of the way before the baby came”. I called him early on a Friday afternoon to tell him my waters had broken, and by the time I got into his work two hours later he was still on the phone trying to reschedule people. Turns out that bubby had stage fright though, and didn’t show up until last thing that Sunday, and that was with an awful lot of help.

That’s typical of her, that is. Always ahead of where she needs to be, but does the last-minute panic and doubts herself, and needs loads of coaxing.

My second-born’s birth experience was completely different. He was a (ooooouuuuch) posterior delivery. That’s typical of him, too: right on time, but has a knack for making things much more complicated than they need to be.

And the third was straightforward. Just like him.

Have you ever noticed a pattern between birth and personality? Hmmmm. Have you ever noticed that I can read something deep and meaningful into just about anything?