I just put Brayden down for a nap. It was a “normal” nap-time routine: he finishes up his lunch and plays for a couple minutes while I get his room ready (lovies and blankets placed just so in his crib, humidifier and sound machine turned on, lights turned off); he chooses what he wants to put by his bed (luckily this time it was only four little cars – as opposed to the giant hot wheels carrier truck he sometimes insists on fitting onto the night stand table next to his water); we walk into his room (sometimes he walks nicely with me, and sometimes he runs and barrels through the door almost swinging it straight through the wall into the garage); we check his diaper, change him if he needs it, grab his blanket (one of three), his lovie (one of anywhere from five to seven, depending on the day – but always one of the core five: George, Clubby, Bunny, Teddy Bear and Wee-Giggles, or “wee-gigi” as Brayden calls him), and we climb into the rocking chair for some love and snuggle time. I rock him for a couple minutes until his eyes are closed and then lift him up and into his crib, tucking him in with the remainder of his sleepy entourage. Pretty easy routine.

Somedays it takes him longer to settle down than others, and today was one of those days.

As I was trying to get him calm, I was replaying in my mind all the particular habits he has around pretty much doing anything and everything. He always wants to hold something in his hand, or have one of his toys watch him do something (like eat dinner), or give a kiss and hug to his book or truck or cup or jacket or anything in his direct sight of vision that will cause the next action he is required to do to be delayed (if you get where I’m going with this…). I wondered how someone so little (comparitively speaking) can be so stubborn, determined, particular, exact, etc…

Yeah, he probably gets that from me.

I know (well, my brain does, and sometimes my brain and heart don’t always get the same memo) that our children are often times reflections of our own self. Brayden most definitely is. He most definitely is MY child! I completely see myself in him (and honestly, not always the way I would prefer to be seen).

The lesson I’m trying to take from this is to have a little more patience (which is HARD when I am constantly being tested and talked at – no, not talked to, because that would mean having more of a conversation, which usually involves this back-and-forth concept of one person talks, then the other. Yeah, no that doesn’t happen too often – YET – in our house). Not only do I need to have more patience with Brayden, but more patience with myself too. Yikes, really?! Um, yes. 

So, as I was sitting in the rocking chair, love-ing on him and thinking about all the ways he is Just Like Me, I wondered what kind of perspective he has of me? Is he truly being this way because that’s how he sees me? Are we mirrors of each other? It’s a lot to think about, and there’s most likely a partial truth to that. I am his first teacher, his first influence – good or bad. I recognize that, thankfully. No one is perfect (nope Brayden, not even you and I).