One of the few parenting issues many agree on is genes count for lots more than their parenting skills, or even lack thereof. Thus, the inevitable for our girl is a near perfect package of looks, legs, superior intelligence and skillful writing *or* erratic, short, emotionally labile, swarthy and industrious.
My biggest fear in life is now looking me straight in the eyes like an airport security agent interrogating me in Schipol. Frankie inherited a whole bunch of me and I am left to prepare her for what's coming in life. It's like raising myself.
Proof she has my genes:
1. She has more notebooks with ideas than anyone should.
2. Every new gadget that enters the house gets used exhaustively in the first 48 hrs of life (eg, Keurig).
3. I found a pile of files, glue, screw drivers and wood shavings in the basement the other night.
4. She expresses disdain for anything scheduled and authority. This makes me hurt. Much of life plays out under the direction of others and often interferes with one's desires for fun. She likely has a hell of a road ahead. This, I fear, I cannot help her with.
5. She does not go to sleep, she crashes exhausted. I'm glad her sleep is restorative.
6. She loves movies.
7. She gave this, to Louie, who is an avid sports fan anonymously.
She turns 10 Thursday. Wish us all luck for the second decade.
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