being a mom
Resolution Week: My New Year’s Resolution Is To Stop Giving My Kid Weird Body Issues
I laughed appreciatively at her hilarious joke, until I noticed the wounded look on her face and realized she was being serious. I would find out later that “You should do pageants†is the ultimate compliment in Texas regarding toddler cuteness, and that my response was basically on par with punching a kindly grandmother in the face. She handled it with southern grace, though, patting me on the shoulder and even saying, “bless your soul!†which I would find out later is the Texas equivalent of, “well fuck you too, honey.â€
What really stuck with me that day, though, was the woman’s assertion that my kid looked just like me, because frankly, until then I’d never seen a resemblance. I had always joked that my husband must have cheated because there was no way she was mine.
I went home and relayed the incident to my husband, and after having an arrogant laugh about the aw-shucksy quaintness of the natives, I asked if our daughter really did look just like me.
“Of course,†he said. “Everyone says so.â€
I stared at my toddler while she slept for a while, and piece by piece, I could see it, too. The hair. The eyes. The tip of her nose. As she got older, these things became even more recognizable, but I saw them as features that were inherited but improved on her, because while my daughter is beautiful, the most I could ever hope for is “interesting.”Â