My Offspring. Oh my god she’s mine.

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Okay, well obviously since she came out of my once almost-perfect-not jiggly-body, I KNOW she’s mine.  I do.  I have the stretch marks to prove it.  Sometimes though, we’ll be playing or I’ll be watching her, and it’s odd.  It’s like watching a blond-haired-blue-eyed-3 year old version of myself.  From things she says and how she says them to mannerisms, to actions.  She is definitely my child.

Because obviously, only a purple robe and monkey hat can compete with the pink robe and apron-cape.

So this morning she was playing with a race car thingy she got from a happy meal.  (In a very last ditch effort to NOT have a 100% princess I asked for the toy for boys lol)  I was sitting on the kitchen floor with my coffee and she was racing it around me.  Well apparently it went up an invisible ramp… and into my face.  Helllloooo fat lip.  So I scold her for throwing.   Then I watch her “ramp it” again.  Straight into my half full cup of heavenly coffee.  I just stare at her as coffee drips off my nose.  She shuffles over.  Plucks her car out of my coffee cup.  Looks me dead in the eye and says “I made a basket mama”, completely deadpan.

I laughed so hard I almost peed myself.  Then I pelted her with beanie babies until my house looked (still does) like a mini-furry-orgy happened here.  Then we had wars with said beanie babies and race cars.  One of the beanie baby mini’s (you know from mcdonalds back in the day) ended up in her bowl of froot loops.  I looked at her and shouted “SCORE”.  After some giggling.  She informed me “My basket better mama”.

Competition is strong in this one.

It’s going to be a long life.

So then as I’m taking a break and sitting at the table in the kitchen… she asks for a cupcake, and I regretfully informed her that they were all gone.  I would’ve loved some pink frosting too.

Then I swear.  I was looking at myself.  Those who know me well, know this look.  She cocked a hip,  put both hands on her hips, raised her eyebrows, one slightly higher, and says “Uh huh”.

*Sighs* I have a clone here people.  A clone that at this current moment in time is trying to put a keychain ring on her lip…. to look like mommy.  Oh god.

Oh hey, and facebook friends?  Remember how I used to throw the “horns” every time I was in a picture?  Remember?  There were only like 90 million pictures….

She's a lot cuter than me when I do it.

So she also had this obsession with my motorcycle helmet.  I let her wear it a couple of time, and hilarity insued.  She knocked her head into walls, hit her self with her hands, and walked like a drunk… since the helmet was 10 times too big for her.  It was funny.

Yes. This is my kid.

Well she wanted to play with it again this morning.  I told her no, that last time she almost put her head through a wall.  She begs for a while but loses interest and finds a milk crate.  She puts it on top of her head and starts running circles.  I’m just staring at her.  Then I hear it.  This sound.  It’s coming from my daughter.  My kid.  Is running with a milk crate on her head.  In circles.  Making motorcycle sounds.  Not be to confused with when I stole her trike.

 

 

Sometimes I smack myself and wince when people ask me how being a young parent is.  I grumble and roll over when her fingers are prying my eyelids apart in the morning.  Sometimes I’ll let her have mac n cheese one too many times because I’m lazy.

But you know what?

I love my little clone.  I’m soo lucky to have her, (though if she continues on having my personality, I’ll prob end up strangling her when she’s 16) and I wouldn’t change her for the world.

<3

Well except for that tendency to draw on walls.

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