Like mother, like son

I have always thought it funny when someone comments on the personality of an infant. I mean, really, aren't they all pretty much the same? They eat, they sleep, they fuss a bit, but do they really have a personality so early on? I don't know, maybe they do and maybe I am just too busy trying to figure out how to make dinner, get the laundry done, and chase two kids around to figure it out.

So Anderson, maybe you did show us glimpses of your personality as a baby. Maybe if we had looked hard enough and had examined your behaviors a bit more closely we would have figured out what kind of a little boy you were going to be. But where's the fun in that, really? It has been so exciting watching you develop from a baby to a boy and come into your own. Most recently it has become increasingly clear that you no doubt possesses some of my most endearing stubborn qualities and here's a story to prove it.

Last week while on the way home from Auntie Fray's a car nap was imminent. Oh, you resisted for a quite a while but, alas, you did succumb just as we exited the freeway. Within five minutes we were home and you were sound asleep (a rarity for you as you are NOT a car nap kind of kid) and I attempted to get you out of the car. With one eye open you told me "no, get away" and proceeded to curl up in your car seat. So what did I do? Like any normal mother with a cranky toddler and a needing-to-nap baby, I let you stay in the car to nap. A few minutes later I went to pick you up and you said you were not ready and, once again, asked me to leave. A few minutes later, same thing. You insisted on staying in the car. Only this time I was getting rather annoyed and decided to pull you out against your will. I got you as far as the front entry and you were flailing and kicking so hard I let you down. And what did you do? That's right, my little mini-me, you ran back to the car, pulled open the door, got back in and snuggled up IN YOUR CAR SEAT. Seriously? You needed a nap in the car that badly? Apparently. But here's the kicker. About 10 minutes later I hear you calling me (heck yes I went back inside, what I am going to do, stand outside and watch you through the window?) in the sweetest, happiest, most heart-melting voice, "OK, mommy, I'm ready now".

Everything on your own terms, baby. If you're not ready, you're just not ready.  I understand completely.