It’s a defining moment when you begin to see yourself in your child, and you realize the things he has in store for him. Fortunately, Asher has mostly Brian in him, so he’ll always land on his feet, but it’s scary to think the trauma he could put himself through before he lands. It truly is amazing to see so much of Brian and me in Asher. While I have always said, “He is his daddy’s boy!”, I am constantly reminded that he has a bit of me in him as well, particularly when it comes to things not “being the way they’re supposed to be.”

Picture our little blond boy sitting in the middle of the living room playing with his shape ball. All is well and good. He has asked me to “please” open it and get the pieces out, and he is sitting with splayed legs covered in yellow shapes. Then things begin to get panicked…the circle is nowhere to be found. How can this be? Asher always finds the circle first to put it in, and now he has nowhere to begin. I give him the oval–after all, it’s almost a circle–to try and distract him, but to no avail. Now imagine him sitting and holding the shape ball up at me inconsolably crying while I search the living room frantically for the circle. And the whole time I am wondering…”when did Asher become like me?” I finally find the circle (thank you to our cats for hiding it under the hutch); the crying stops instantly, and I slump exhausted into the glider rocker to watch Asher happily putting the circle in and out its hole. All is again well and good in the world.

It’s funny how you can see yourselves in your child in something as simple as his eating habits, too. If you’ve never seen Asher eat, there is only one way to describe it for you…with gusto! Food is one of the most wonderful things in the world to him, and we have found little that he will say no to. Picture him stuffing his face with peas and wheat bread and peaches to the point where food is coming back out of his mouth because there’s no room for any more. Does that stop him? Oh no. He is pointing at his bowls of food for another bite, and he erupts into tears when we tell him to wait until his mouth is empty. Ah yes, he is his daddy’s boy.

But then something happens….no, he doesn’t refuse food, but halfway through his meal, he suddenly realizes he’s made a mess. This morning, he did it again. While munching happily on his cheerios and a blueberry muffin, Asher looked down at his hands to find them turning purply blue. He immediately holds them up to me in total consternation, and he refuses to take another bite until I have cleaned his blueberry hands. And I wonder, “Where did this come from? How can someone who is making such a mess suddenly stop and worry about it?” Ah yes, he is his mommy’s boy, too (Brian certainly wouldn’t stop halfway through cooking dinner to clean up because he can’t stand the mess he’s making–does this mean I’m obsessive compulsive?).

Not only does Asher hate the mess he’s making, but he fusses until he’s cleaned up. Take last Tuesday night. Brian and I had a meeting to go to, and my parents were coming up to babysit. I was fluttering around trying to write last minute instructions, fixing Asher’s dinner, and putting on my shoes, so that all could be in order when Mom & Dad arrived. I had been in the bathroom for only a couple minutes brushing my teeth…certainly Asher could behave for that long, couldn’t he? Alas, I presumed too much, and I came out of the bathroom to find he had dumped the entire contents of our cats’ water bowl onto himself. Thank goodness, they were almost out of water, but still, there was water everywhere. Asher was so pleased with himself….until he realized that he had a mess all over himself and the floor, and then he was desparately seeking clean-up. Fortunately, my parents arrived at that moment and my mom whisked Asher away to the nursery to change his clothes, saving me from having to deal with the mess and saving Asher from another scolding that day.

I have thought a lot this week about all this, and I have struggled with wondering if I’ve created a monster…poor kid, type-A’s always get the bad rap (trust me, I know), and I’ve realized that part of me doesn’t want him to be like me and struggle with the things with which I struggle. But something my best friend, Beth, told me last night really struck me. She was talking about life in general, and she said, “Ang, you know, God doesn’t give us the wrong anything. He doesn’t give us the wrong parents, or the wrong job, or the wrong husband, or the wrong child. He gives us exactly what is perfect for us.” And she is so right, and Asher is so perfect. No, he’s not a perfect child, but he is perfect for us…exactly what we need, exactly what we want, and I see God’s goodness in him every day. Mommy or Daddy’s boy, he is perfectly Asher.

The trauma of the week for me came on Friday when Brian and I left Asher for the weekend at my parents while we went to a retreat with 90 middle and high school students from our church. It was our first time leaving Asher overnight, and while I knew he was in capable hands, I feared that his separation anxiety might be a problem. Imagine my dismay when I dropped Asher off with Mom only to have him wave bye-bye and crawl away from me chasing their cat, Cinder, who, unlike our cats, actually lets Asher pet her. This wasn’t the way it was “supposed to be”…he was supposed to not want me to go; he was supposed to cry; he was supposed to at least understand that his mommy was leaving and this was a big deal. Sigh. This was one time I actually wanted him to be like me, but yes, he is mostly his daddy’s boy, and that’s a good thing. It truly is. In fact, it’s perfect.