My Gift

When I was growing up my mother always used to say that she hoped and prayed God would give me a child just like myself. Although when asking for this child, I’m sure she meant that God would give it to me when I was married, and not one second before. But oh well, you can’t always get what you want (to Rolling Stones tune). Being the wise ass I have always been, I used to say “Me too, I want a daughter just like me because I’ll know exactly what to do with her and I love her even more because I know what she is going through. Pam would get this knowing little smile on her face and I would be like “ha, I told her!”

I’m pretty sure she told me this at least once a week from the age of 8 until right before I told her I was pregnant. In the midst of all her misery about my “situation,” the one bright spot for her was that now there was the possibility that I would finally know what it was like to have a child like myself. Surely, God would not give me a well behaved child, the child she had wanted, since I had committed this grievous sin against my family. At this point I was terrified that God was going to punish me for doing this to my family by giving me a special needs child. I was very scared that there would be something actually wrong with her, I could have cared less about behavior issues.

When she was born PERFECT and BEAUTIFUL, I breathed a sigh of relief- God didn’t stick it to me. Fast forward to today, actually to the last few months, and I’m thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have laughed at Pam all those years. I’m not sure if it’s genetics, or prayer, or punishment, but I do know, that Baby is my child. She is strong willed, stubborn, brilliant (haha), creative, and has selective hearing.

Spencer did not want to take her afternoon nap today and I finally gave up and put her in her playpen. This did not sit well with her and she decided that she didn’t want to wear her clothes. So she started trying to take them off. I said, “No.” She looked at me and gave me a beaming smile and continued to take off her shirt. I said, “NO” firmly and looking her right in the eye with my best no nonsense voice. She looked right back at me, smiled again and began to laugh as she started taking off her pants. Finally I said, “Spencer, Spencer White, I said NOOOOOO!” She looked at me and flung herself on the floor of the playpen, and began having a 2 minute long temper tantrum.

This whole time though, I was trying not to laugh at her, because it was just SO like me. The whole, “I dare you to stop me smile,” followed by the wail of submission. In that moment I knew what Pam had been talking about, and for someone who was the best child ever, I must have been a big let down.
But I was right about one thing- I LOVE her all the more for being my child, the child who is just like me. So punishment or gift, she is everything I said I always wanted.