Shortly after Gabriella was born, I started getting the same comments from all those I pointed my new baby at: "She looks just like Spiral". I could never see it. She didn't look like either one of us to me. She just looked like my baby.
The funny thing I found in these conversations was not the words, but the expressions I got as they spoke the words. Whether Spiral was standing at my side at the time or not, I always got one of two looks.
One look was a look of "Did you know this?" Well, after hearing these words from every person who ever laid eyes on the three of us, yes, I had a bit of a clue that perhaps she looks like he.
The other look was almost a look of asking permission. As if they were saying "Is it okay I say this?", or "I'm sorry I can't say she looks like you".
To those people I would say, yes, it is just peachy with me if you think she looks like my husband. After all, he is the typical "tall, dark, and handsome", while I am much more plain. I happen to think my dear hubby is rather gorgeous, and seeing him in my daughter warms the cockles of my heart. And please, don't feel sorry for me about it! I'm confident she will get my superior intelligence, witty sense of humor, and charming charisma. (Ignore the man snickering in the background.)
Then my Little Man was born. (Have you ever noticed how often I lay claim to these children, calling them mine? This is due to my very strong opinion that once you carry a human around inside your body for 9 months and then you push it out of your vagina, it belongs to you. Forever.) Little Man looks different to me, and I had finally decided that even though I didn't see it, he must look like me.
Guess again, Christine. According to the rest of the world population, Little Man is a male clone of Gabriella, and looks like his daddy. Again, I'm not complaining. I just thought I had it figured out. It turns out I don't know what I or my husband looks like, because I can't recognize either one of us in our kids.
And then, if my kids looked like me, I may not get these commical looks from people when they tell me who they look like. A mommy has so little to laugh at some days.
(Author's note: This post didn't end up where I wanted it to. I really wanted it to be more about the funny gazes people cast on me during these conversations, and not about who my kids look like. I guess that's why I'm just a college journalism has-been and not a published writer! Anyway, perhaps I'll work on it in the future, but for now I'm posting it and going to bed. Seven a.m. comes mighty early.)