My partner and I are constantly noticing similarities between our 2-year-old toddler, and ourselves. My son has my eyes, while he has his father's chin. My son runs like I do (completely uncoordinated), but he likes the same cartoons his father likes. Seeing those adorable similarities usually warms my heart, and makes me feel pretty damn proud to be my son's mom. Then, of course, there are the signs your kid is exactly like you that prove you're so very screwed in the future (or right now).
I wasn't necessarily the easiest kid to raise. You could ask my mom, of course, but I want you all to like me so, you know, please don't. Just take my word for it when I say that I was somewhat of a "problem child," who questioned authority and tested boundaries and probably made my mom question her decision to procreate. Now that I have a child of my own, I have no doubt that I'm in for much of the same. My kid is just as defiant as I am, constantly questioning me by testing the laws of gravity after I've explicitly told him (at least a hundred times) to stop jumping off the couch.
So, when that ominous "they" say, "What goes around, comes around," they're not lying. Chances are, when you (and if you) procreate, your kid is going to be just like you, and not just in the adorable ways that give you all the warm and fuzzy feelings. Nope, they'll pick up your not-so-easy-to-handle qualities, too. So good luck, dear reader, because if your kid is showing the following signs, you're freakin' screwed.
They Give You The Same Look You Give Them
I have this "look," that basically says, "I'm not about it." When this look is being used, the people in my general vicinity know not to f*ck with me or bother me or do anything that could remotely upset me because, at this point, I'm probably at the end of my proverbial rope and I'm exhausted and I just don't have the time or the energy to deal so I want (and need) to be left alone.
Yeah, my son has that very same look. He's a 2-year-old toddler.
Already he has mastered the "I'm not about it" look, and I know not to f*ck with him, either. When that look is deployed, I won't tickle him and I won't try to snuggle him and I won't try to otherwise connect with him. I know he needs his time and his space and that's not only OK, it's warranted. We all need space, and my son has figured out how to ask for (read: demand) his.
They Like What You Like, Naturally
I don't know if it's because I was consistently eating rice and ranch dressing when I was pregnant (thank you, pregnancy cravings) or because my son and I share DNA, but the kid likes the taste of ranch just as much as I do. He loves to cuddle (which is crazy, considering he's a toddler and they don't like sitting in one spot for a significant period of time) and sleep in (praise the parenting gods). He's also obsessed with sports, loves the color black (currently) and hates being tickled; just like his mama.
I know that right now I'm his only frame of reference (besides his father) so one day he'll branch out and try new things and figure out what he likes for and by himself. However, for now, I am buying extra bottles of ranch dressing. I'll do almost anything for my son, but sharing my ranch dressing is not one of those things.
They Dislike What You Like, Naturally
Of course, I've also noticed that my kid doesn't like many of the same things I can't stand. He doesn't like vegetables (I know, I know. I'm not setting the best example, but that's neither here nor there.) and he doesn't like spicy food.
Again, I'm sure his likes and dislikes will change and I won't be able to bond with him over an eternal hatred for spicy Chicken Pad Thai, but for now I will revel in the fact that his dad can eat up all the hot sauce, and we can dunk our food in sweet, sweet, creamy ranch.
They Remind Your Parents Of You When You Were A Kid
If I had a dollar for every time my mother looked at my son and said, "He's just like you, Danielle," I would have my son's future college fund ready to pay for at least three years of schooling.
This is, of course, also a pretty sh*tty sign.
I was a pain in the ass when I was a kid, and that didn't change for quit some time. I gave my mother every single grey hair she has on her head (and probably a few anxiety attacks) and I'm not looking forward to the days my son returns the favor.
They Gravitate Toward The Same People You Tend To Like
I tend to get along with everyone and for the most part. However, there are a few steadfast characteristics in any individual that "draw me in," so-to-speak. Whether I'm attracted to a certain "type" or just find myself more inclined to try and connect with someone based on how they act or what they say, there are people I know I will get along with, and people I know I probably won't have a whole lot in common with.
My son, apparently, gravitates to the same people that I find myself attracted to or "in tune" with. Whether it's a tattoo-covered guy at the park — who my son decides is automatically "nice" because he has ink like mom — or the really kind brunette cussing loudly at the grocery store — and is automatically enticing because she sounds a lot like mom, probably — my kid seems to naturally feel comfortable around people I could see myself being friends with. The problem? I dated some pretty inappropriate people back in the day and my friends, while amazing, sure did contribute to a lot of dangerous shenanigans. My mom-heart is in for a world of hurt (and a lot of anxiety).
They Sleep Exactly Like You Sleep
My kid sleeps the exact same way I sleep: cuddling a blanket or a pillow or a person, one leg outside of the covers while the other is safely tucked in underneath. It's the most adorable, so I'm not really sure this similarity means I'm screwed. It's just nice to think back on, so here I am.
They Eat What You Eat And Exactly How You Eat
My kid and I not only share the same likes (and dislikes) but we tend to share the same eating habits. Of course, by "share the same eating habits" I mean, "eat as if you'll never see another ounce of food again, then eat just as ravenously about an hour or so later."
I'm not sure how I am going to be able to fund my kid's appetite (especially when he becomes a teenager) but I'm not looking forward to it. In fact, I think if I sit in complete silence and think about the future meals I'll have to provide, I'll be able to hear my bank account crying.
They Argue With You The Way You Argue With The Television During A Football Game Or A Presidential Debate
Pretty soon I'm going to lose the ability to argue with my kid. He's going to start winning and I'm going to lose all credibility I may or may not have.
Sure, right now his little finger pointing and 2-year-old defiant head tilt is mildly adorable, but when he starts picking up on the same debate skills I use when yelling at the television during a presidential debate, I won't know how to out-smart him. Damn.
They Have The Same Dance Moves You've Been Relying On For Years
OK, this isn't a sign that you're screwed, this is just a sign that you're killing it at this whole parenthood thing.
I mean, my kid has the same (epic, mind you) dance moves I've used in middle school gyms, high school auditoriums and college parties. Those moves will take him far, I'm sure, and will be one of the many reasons why people will stand in awe of all that he is and will be. You're welcome, son of mine. You're so very welcome.
(Also, I'm sorry.)
They Have Your (Lack Of) Coordination
My kid has no control of his limbs, which is on par with the amount of control I seem to have over my entire body, too. I am constantly falling and tripping over myself or running into huge objects that are so very obviously in front of me. It's not a cute look, and the reason why I'm constantly covered in bruises and scars.
Yeah, that's my kid.
My toddler is the most uncoordinated human being I have ever seen, so I'm sure I'll be in the emergency room once or twice (or a million times) more than I would care to be. Those medical bills are going to be the freakin' worst. Ugh.
You know, when they said that having children would be expensive, they failed to mention the reason why. They're pricy because they're exactly like you.