Almost six years ago, I reconnected with an old high school friend at a bar downtown Hamilton. It was February 29th, the leap year, a day that usually does not exist. Like the Bright Eyes song, it was “the first day of my life”. Hardly a day has passed since then that my now husband and I have spent apart. We have had our ups and downs like any couple, but he has always stood by me through thick and thin, no matter how much I tried to push him away.

It is because of his years of experience dealing with me, that he’s so wonderful when it comes to our son. He jokes that it’s like having two of me. Even when I can see from his expression that one (or both) of us is getting under his skin, he is still able to remain calm. Really, I don’t know how he does it some days. Days where I am so frustrated that I want to rip my hair out or scream at the top of my lungs (and I sometimes do). Days where I cry out of guilt for the harsh words I have spoken to the tiny little person who is staring back at me, confused. Like me, D can dish it out, but by the time it comes back to him from the person who has inevitably grown tired of taking his crap, he is already in a fantastic mood and can’t seem to understand why this person could be so angry with him. Because D and I are so much alike, things can escalate pretty quickly.

They never last long though. We both seem to feel instantly relieved by a little outburst and then just as quickly need to remedy the situation. It’s not uncommon for us to be yelling one minute and hugging and laughing together again the next. We are like two peas in a pod. My poor, poor husband.

These are not easy things to admit about yourself. But when you have a child whose personality mirrors yours so completely, it’s pretty hard to ignore. It’s not always such a bad thing though, us being so much alike. We do share a lot of good qualities as well and every day I grow prouder of the person he is becoming.

That being said, for the sake of balance, I still secretly hope that DD takes after her daddy.