I’m pretty sure I misread Dr. Spock when he made some comment in his epic tome (the only baby book I read) about children being more alike than different. Because I think I need to swap “pregnancy” for “children” here.
This isn’t to say that either of my pregnancies were in any way alike, save for the fact that they both amounted in a massively 60-70 pound weight gain and that they both were boys.
But for years, despite the fact that my brother and I are only alike in that we both have black hair and dark coloring (lemmie give you an example: he got his BA in underwater pole vaulting–actual degree: poetry and photography–and I got my BSN. Now he’s an engineer and I write a blog. Who got the short end of the stick here!?!), I mistakenly took up the mantra that my children would be more alike than different.
I will take this opportunity to allow you to laugh mightily at my expense. Go ahead. It’s okay.
So, it’s come as a bit of a shock to learn that for children I have two completely different creatures. In my current possession I have:
1) A Cranky Fetus. Who may or may not hate me in a teenage angst way. I’d be willing to bet that it’s ALREADY listening to the Cure and wearing copious amounts of black eyeliner.
2) Ben: The Absent-Minded Professor (a.k.a Techno Distracto)
3) Alex: The Ass-Kicker (a.k.a. Techno DisTRUCTo).
Ben cannot remember something as simple as TURNING OFF THE WATER when he’s done at the sink and Alex beats down everything in his path. His habit of whipping things at my face has actually amounted to a fat lip (mine, not his) and Ben has driven me to the brink of insanity with his inability to remember oh, I don’t know…ANYTHING.
So comfort your Aunt Becky, Internet At Large (whose butt looks FANTASTIC in those pants. Have you lost weight?!). Are siblings more alike than different?