My child is turning out to be just like me — AH!

ab and miles

Parents always joke that you will get a child that is “just” like you — a blessing or a curse.

There are many things about me, if I may be so modest, I would love for Miles to inherit — my fearlessness, independence, compassion, passion for life, tenacity and friendly nature. But there are quite a few things I hope skip a generation, no skip on out completely.

I am stubborn. No, really, I am VERY stubborn. Ask my husband, ask my mother, ask my sister, well really you could ask anyone that has known me for more than a few minutes and they would tell you that.

I can, OK, I often do, overreact initially. I have a tendency to avoid tough issues often times walking away from them as opposed to tacking them/talking about them head on.

And these are things, unfortunately, I’m starting to see rear their ugly head with my munchkin. If he doesn’t want to do something he won’t. I know, all of you parents out there say that applies to every kid. Well take that average stubborn toddler status and multiply… by a lot!

Miles can throw a pretty good tantrum too.

Which brings me to today. It wasn’t a typical morning at the Doyle household. Usually Miles is my alarm clock waking up around 6:30 every day. But last night he woke up around 2:30 a.m. with a nightmare screaming and crying hysterically. He was up for more than an hour before he went back to bed.

This morning when I left the house he was still asleep in his crib. I got a message from Michael a little after 9 a.m. that said, “I was sitting on the couch about 9 a.m. wondering how late Miles was going to sleep when I heard the doorknob to his bedroom jiggle. The door opens, he walks matter-of-factly out into the living room, turns on the TV and brings me the PS3 remote.”

We don’t have cable so Miles’ cartoons come via streaming Nexflix on┬áMichael’s PlayStation 3. I guess my independent little guy was ready for cartoons. But that jovial morning mood didn’t last long.

About an hour later Michael says, “A minute ago I fussed at him for climbing over the back of the couch. He gave me a dirty look, then ran to his room and slammed the door. When I finally stopped laughing, I went to get him and he came out with a basket on his head.”

There’s no way around it, he is definitely my son!

How about you? Do you find a lot of yourself in your children? Do you cringe or smile?

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