The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

I have to tell you, I love my kids and all, but I’m getting a little sick of having to negotiate around all their hangups.  I mean, it’s one thing when I have to lay exactly three blankets on little lady before I can zip her crib tent, but now she expects me to lay three blankets on Anakin Skywalker, or as she likes to call him, Baby Anakin, before he takes a nap, too. As you can see from the picture, he also needs his own sippy cup.  If you’re wondering what in the hell I’m talking about, well, let’s just say that some little girls like to play with dolls.  Little girls who have two big brothers (at least in my experience), seem to fancy Star Wars action figures, Anakin Skywalker to be exact, which is just fine with me because that means at least someone is playing with him.  Of course, I am a bit nervous that this may portend some future desire on my daughter’s behalf, for the bad boy archetype, but I’m hoping her like of Anakin is…what?  I don’t know?  Seriously, I can’t even fathom why she likes him, his little face looks so mean.  Doesn’t he?You see why I’m worried?  Not exactly the type of boy you want your baby girl to bring home.

But back to the annoying obsessive compulsive behavior that my kids like to demonstrate.  Speaking of first son, yesterday, he got so wound up about turkey hanging over the edge of his crustless (and I mean there better not be one ounce of crust remaining on that bread) bread, that he wouldn’t even eat his lunch.  He chose to go hungry rather than eat a sandwich that had a tiny little bit of turkey peeking out, and it was a tiny amount.  I know this, because the night before he had this same complaint at dinner (I swear we don’t eat turkey sandwiches for every meal, I just had some lunch meat I wanted to use up before it went bad).  So, when I was making his lunch, I took extra care to carefully tuck the turkey in as much as I could.  I guess my best wasn’t good enough because he came home really hungry.  And, don’t even get me started on his foods touching, or using the same utensil for different foods, or rinsing out, let’s say an orange glass and then using the same glass for water.  All sins in his book.  One time, in a major lapse of judgement, I made a chicken pot pie.  I thought it was a sure crowd pleaser given his new found affinity for chicken, corn, carrots, and pancakes, but he wouldn’t even try it. He was appalled that everything was mixed together.  What can I say?

Second son, he’s his own masterpiece.  His hang ups are designed to torture, like “lay with me,” which is such a prolonged event that the layer (usually my husband) ends up falling asleep, too.  Then, he has to come into my bed each night and make sure at least one part of his body (usually his feet) is touching mine (could be my back, could be my head, it all depends on how he’s laying).  Or, the fact that he must have a Yo Baby yogurt drink, first thing when rising, on the couch, with a straw, and don’t bother him until you’ve given it to him and he’s finished it.  He can be a little grumpy in the morning. His socks give him issue, too-everday!  The seams must be perfectly aligned or else, well, I don’t even feel like getting into the whole boring dragged out ordeal.  Let’s just say it’s painful.

I’m not sure where my children get all this rigidness from.  I consider myself to be pretty easygoing and my husband thinks he is too, just don’t ask him to drink coffee from the tall mugs or eat cereal from the shallow bowls, or disturb his morning routine.  In truth, I guess there are some things that I am particular about, too, like I must have my coffee and breakfast upon waking, and at the same time, but I don’t get crazy about things.  Just don’t touch my pillow, mess with weather channel before bed, talk to me when I’m watching a show, read over my shoulder, suggest that I stay up later than 10pm, ask me to get up earlier than six, come into the kitchen when I’m cooking, take a different route than the one I suggested (and know to be the fastest)…ok, so I guess I get it a little.  The funny thing is, is that I always thought I was raising flexible kids, but I guess by giving them routines, I’ve also given them structure, and I guess, they’ve added a little structure of their own along the way, and given me a taste of my own medicine.  God bless them. It’s true what they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

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