What a Difference a 'Do' Makes

When an artist becomes so enveloped in his canvas that he can no longer clearly discern the red paint from the green paint, they say that he is “too close to the project.” All his brush strokes fade together and he has trouble judging his own art work. The painting might be un-centered or the perspective may be off, but he can’t tell because he’s been starring at it for too long.

When it comes to me and my kids’ outward appearance, it would be safe to say that I’m too close to the project. I look at their faces and I don’t see a resemblance to James or a similarity to me. I look at Josie and I see warm-heartedness with an eagerness to please. I look at Jamie and I see rambunctiousness with a longing for affection. I look at Johnny and I see hardiness with a love for activity and interaction. I have such an intimate relationship with my “paintings” that I can no longer see the brush strokes on the surface.





Still, I know that to others my kids look a lot like their father. People point it out to me often. There’s no denying that they all got James’ nose. That’s definitely a dominant gene. The boys got their V-shaped hair line from their daddy’s side of the family. Poor Josie will always blame James for her big feet. They all even inherited a characteristic squint when they smile. The fact that they look so much like their dad doesn’t bother me in the least. After all, I never would have married the guy if I didn’t think he was attractive enough to make babies with!



Yet, I have to say, when a woman toils through ten long months of pregnancy and withstands the agonizing pain of labor and delivery, she’d sure as heck like the resulting child to show some outward sign of her contribution. But from the moment our little Josie first showed her beautiful face, all anyone could say about her was how much she looked like her father. It’s true. She does. So much so, in fact, that James used to joke that he doubted whether or not I was Josie’s biological mother…. regardless of the fact that he personally witnessed her emergence from my cervix.



Josie





James



Well, little did we know that hiding behind all that Daddy was a little bit of Mommy. It just took a new hairdo to bring it out.

Late last week the kids and I made a stop at the salon because Jamie was long overdue for a trim. It being late and he being tired, a spirited protest began and I had to offer him a trip to the candy store in exchange for cooperation during his haircut. At this, Josie’s ears perked up and she said enthusiastically, “I want a hair cut!” At any other time I might not have considered the idea but lately I’d been thinking that her signature pigtails and bangs were getting a bit juvenile for a soon-to-be kindergartener, so I explained that she could get a haircut if she really wanted. A conversation ensued about the benefits and drawbacks of short and long hair and it was eventually decided that Josie would in fact get her hair cut short. She climbed proudly into the barber chair and smiled a huge smile the entire time. I’m still kicking myself for not bringing my camera along! When the stylist was finished she swung the swivel chair around so that Josie faced me…..

The hairs on my arms stood on end. She was me! I felt like I was looking at a childhood picture of myself.



Josie





Jenny



 I have never felt that way about any of my children before (but it makes me wonder if that’s how James feels every single time he looks at our kids). There at my feet was a miniature replica of me. Wow! What an awe-inspiring feeling! Somehow it makes all the work that I’ve invested in mothering for the last five years seem just a tad bit more satisfying.

It sure is amazing what a difference a ‘do’ can make.