Water Loving Genes

When I was a young kid, I was OBSESSED with the water. I mean, obsessed. Like, I wanted to be in the water so badly that my mom gave up trying to control this urge, and let me plunge fully into any body of water over 2 inches deep…in my dresses. Because I was also a super girly tomboy who climbed trees and wore dresses EVERY DAY until I was in 4th grade. 

One of my favorite memories was going to a park with some friends, and normally this wading pool (shaped like an Orca) was dried up (because it wasn’t summertime), but this one time it was FULL OF WATER and I went full on swimming, in a pale yellow dress with puffy sleeves. Pretty sure parenting me was like trying to  stop a rushing river. 

At any rate, I’ve noticed a similar trend with Potamus. He shouts “water!” whenever he sees a body of water, and the other day I had to drag him away from running headlong into Lake Washington. And we had plans that didn’t involve soggy clothes, so I had to say ‘no,’ which resulted in a meltdown of epic proportions. 

It makes me wonder if a preference for swimming, or being around water, is a genetic preference, or just a being-a-kid thing. Because he’s seriously obsessed. Except with showers. He’s not a fan of showers. 

Genetic Mirroring

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Potamus with pigtails?

I am pre-occupied with looks, specifically the looks of my child in relation to my own and my husband’s. When Potamus was born, everyone was shocked by his blonde hair and blue eyes. At almost two his eyes have turned hazel, but he’s still blonde as the day he was born. But most people think that he looks like Boof, which is hard for me…and I think it all goes back to being adopted, and being raised in a family where my looks weren’t reflected back and nobody said “oh, she looks like great aunt millie.”

I think my son actually looks quite a bit like me. His personality is quite a bit like my own, with his little mischievous side, but his sweetness is reminiscent of stories I’ve heard about Boof as a child. Every once in awhile Potamus will give a look, make an expression, that makes me think of his dad, but for the most part, when I look at my sweet child I see myself as a baby looking back. So why am I so surprised or frustrated when people don’t notice the way he resembles me?