Role  models aren’t always perfect. 

I have really been seeing my son as a mirror lately.  He does so many things just like me. I find it amazing since I’m gone so much working in the metro.  Yet,  he has somehow managed to pick up nearly all of my mannerisms, and likes to do things mommy does.

I really appreciate this when it’s things like sweeping or cleaning, or when he goes to pick up a real drill fully intending to fix some obscure thing he’s noticed (which by the way my almost 3 year old knows how to handle a real drill safely). He loves watching Bob the Builder and comments on the lady builder being like me. I’ve seemed to help him feel the beat in music and he enjoys dancing (though he doesn’t like music loud like I do). He’s even taken to coloring now,  and especially loves it when we share coloring a picture.

I often cringe though. Usually when he swears, though we all laugh, because as friends pointed out he has  proper swearing ettiquet. He uses ALL the words correctly,  in proper context,  and doesn’t swear around people he doesn’t know. Yikes.

He also yells. Anya asked me why he was yelling at her yesterday.  I told her it’s because he’s learned well.  When I ask nicely I get no response,  but when I yell people do what I say. I said it’d have been easier on everyone if people just did things when I asked nicely, but no, now Ian has learned that it takes yelling too. So when he really wants something- right now,  he yells. Yikes.

He’s definitely a mirror,  for better or worse.  Yet I have to remind myself no-one is perfect.  I think I’m doing a bit better than my parents, definitely a work in progress,  but I  spend less time yelling & angry, and I reach for happy more.  I am more affectionate and cuddly. I do my best to make moments count and show my appreciation for my family where I can.

That being said,  even though I can see my parents negatives,  I still love them.  I see they did the best they could with the tools and knowledge they had. Even though they seem to be disappointed in me, I know they still love me somewhere in their hearts. I appreciate all they did do for me, and that they did do their best. That’s all anyone can really ask of their parents.

I know they must feel like they did something wrong to create the mess of me. I’m a bisexual pagan liberal socialist hippie that can’t stand conservatives and doesn’t go to church.  Yet, my ability and desire to help others, take care of others,  be responsible for others,  make people feel good, and be a humanitarian, wouldn’t have happened if not for their influence. I would have given up years ago if it hadn’t  been for their influence.  They made me strong, they made me a fighter. They made me independent,  they helped me find my intelligence.  They encouraged me to keep trying,  keep searching, keep learning.

I may not have done things just like them,  I’m a different person, but they gave me the foundation to be me.

So, I take that,  and look at my little mirror knowing that one day he’ll take my good & bad parts and make them his own,  probably striving  to be better than I am.  I can only hope that he’ll be as aware and acknowledge the same in regards to me. I hope he’ll hold me as his wonderful loving not-so-perfect mom and role model.

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