12 years ago today we (Dave and I) received our first photo or our teeny beany.
Being a mom is pretty great, and I owe it all to her.
My daughter is such a nice person, genuinely kind, easy-going, funny as hell. I love her. She’s great! And I doubt I have anything to do with it.
I know a mom or two who are lovely people, kind, sociable, etc., and their children are people who I can only describe as the people I least want to be stranded on a island with.
And then I know one or two moms who are awful, whiny, self-aggrandizing, and their kids are lovely people, smart, calm, engaging.
So, I mean, it can’t have anything to do with the parents, right?
One young lady I know is so funny, and her parents are as humorous as a tax audit.
How does this happen?
Of course, in our case, Dave is an artist, and so is our daughter. I am ridiculously humorous, just ask anyone who doesn’t read my blog, and so is my daughter. And both Dave and I are as kind and wonderful as the day is long, so I guess in our case it’s nurture over nature.
I know my own parents have affected me more than I ever realized when I was a child, and I do wonder about those adults I know who seem to together, and yet their children are constantly losing it. Maybe Mom and Dad are losing it when no one is around?
Love to hear your thoughts on this one.
Today I am lucky because the wonderful writer James Goodridge is going to speak to my creative writing class!