There are several traits I always hoped that I would not pass on to my children.  Some are physical characteristics, some medical ailments, and others that are just parts of my character.  As any parent would probably tell you, I hope that it’s the best of me that passes to my children, and that the bad would somehow end with me.

For example:

My hair.

“Sweet infant Christ,” I would pray, “in your mercy and love, hear and answer me.  Please spare my unborn infant from the constant sorrow and debilitating nature of my cursed curly head.  I pray you might intercede and bless my baby with straight, natural hair. Amen.”

My wheat intolerance/Celiac’s/general irritable stomach issues.

I’ve been allergic, or intolerant, to wheat for the last nine years.  I’ve spent nearly a decade learning, often the hard way, to read labels, ask about ingredients, and pass up on dishes that I once loved.  Thankfully, my kids were not born with any food allergies, and I hope they don’t inherit my late-onset digestive woes.

My inability to fully awaken and function like a normal human being prior to 10am.

I’ve always been more of a night person, and as most parents will tell you, sleep is probably the first thing you lose once you have kids.  I’m able to get by most mornings now that I’ve had six + years to adjust, and I can even complete the necessary tasks like dressing myself and my offspring, feeding them breakfast, and dropping off Joey at school.  I drink 1-2 cups of coffee, but even with the caffeine, I don’t usually feel much like myself until around 10am.  By no stretch of the imagination am I a morning person.

Neither is my son Joey.

Since Joey was a baby he wanted to be up later at night and would always, given the opportunity, sleep later into the morning.  With school, my biggest problem has always been getting Joey to fall asleep at night and get him to wake up and actually get out of bed in the morning.  Every morning I make him stand up before I leave the room when I’m trying to end his slumber.  This gives me better odds that when I come back in five minutes to get him breakfast, he won’t be sleeping again.

Since Joey is six, I let him choose his own clothes the night before and I lay them out for him to get dressed in the morning.  Today is his Christmas party and sing along, so I had him choose from one of his button down oxford shirts to wear to school.  In his defense, he typically only wears shirts like this for pictures, parties and holidays, so maybe that’s why he got confused.  Although, I think it’s more likely that he’s got his Mom’s mental capacity in the morning, and the poor kid just needs some more sleep.  Check out how Joey dressed himself and showed up for breakfast:

Can anybody tell me when I can start giving this poor kid some coffee??

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