It’s all relative…

Time goes by so fast. In the grand scheme, I mean, and not the little day-to-day stuff. I used to love this song off the ‘She’s Having A Baby’ soundtrack, called “Haunted; When the Minutes Drag”. It was a great tune, but really, it was the title that sold me. I have a weakness for potent titles, in general. Days drag ass, but years just fly by, before you can count them. No, it doesn’t make sense, but it still happens. Especially, once you’ve reached a certain age.

For me, time started acting up right around the day I turned 25. Now, without warning, and hardly a glance, I find myself knocking at the door of 30. Before I know it, I’ll be 40, watching my daughter go through the painstaking process of puberty. Go ahead, say that five times fast, I dare ya. Another blink of the eye and I’ll be 50, putting her into some fancy college I’ll have to take out a second mortgage just to pay for. A few minutes after that, I’ll be pushing sixty, marrying her off and watching my grandchildren born and grow. Then, at last, in no time at all, I’ll be dead enough to leave a legacy of my bones as bug food.

I guess we get weirder as we get older, too.


Mini Me

We always hope that we pass down the best of us. We’re so quick to point it out, too.

“Oh, see that? The nail-biting?? She got that from you, not me…”

It’s hard to recognize our failings, our shortcomings, and our vices, even in our little half-clones. I get it. But, do we ever really look into this enough, to not mess up our kids, by selling them short of their actual selves? I doubt it. We assume, in general,  a clean slate for the things we couldn’t or didn’t do and then try to balance the ledger. Against what? Ourselves?

That’s not fair.

I’ll tell ya; my daughter looks just exactly like me. Does she like the same things? Mostly not. Yeah; she seems to be a ball-player. She’s also a four-wheeling,ATV-ing, racecar loving ginormous Redneck. And, that’s great. She might break some more bones, but she’s going to be the brand of fearless I could never manage. Does she want to go to dance classes, too? Yes. A well-rounded and outside-the-norm brand of brain was all I might have ever asked, for my girl. She just happens to be gorgeous, too.

She has my stubbornness, his hot temper, both our learning temperament (she won’t practice it, until she has it down pact), and a diverse array of quirks. She is the smartest, most wonderful, least argumentative (two positives equaling a negative), kid I have ever seen. I am her mom, but she leads me to believe that the best and worst in us are there to bring out the best in our babies. I know the ol’ cousin-fucker said it first, but, the thing about “Evolution” is that it negates the soul. The soul must be a factor, whether it can be measured by tiny scientific display, or not.

Because the soul, my friends, is what really counts, when push comes to shove.