Of course I was in the delivery room when my younger daughter Peony was born, but it’s not as if I pulled her out of my vagina Ý la Kourtney Kardashian. I had a C-section and there was a curtain separating my head from everything below it, so before I even could get a glimpse of her tiny face, they whisked her away to wrap a blanket around her, stick a hat on her head, or clean the gunk out of her ears, or something.
It’s because of the fact that I didn’t actually see her the moment she was born, plus a few other reasons, that I’m seriously starting to question whether she’s really my daughter or if she got inadvertently switched with some other baby on the morning of her birth.
Here are 10 of the main reasons I’m starting to suspect my younger daughter might not actually be mine:
She refuses to eat chocolate 1 of 10This isn't a humble brag, like, "Oooh, my child shuns anything non-organic and chooses a meat-, dairy- and gluten-free lifestyle because she's so principled."
No, I actually find it troubling that I gave her a bite of a brownie the other night, she chewed it for a second, took it out of her mouth, put it on her high chair, and then picked it back up and threw it on the floor. Then she found a stray pea in the folds of her thigh and ate it.
It's like I don't even know who she is anymore.
She won’t sleep late 2 of 10Sleeping late is at the core of who I am. Pre-mom, post-mom, whatever: I'm a late sleeper. I could sleep all day long. All. Day. Long.
This child of mine? She's an early riser. She doesn't seem to get how delicious and good sleep is, which makes the whole switched-at-birth thing a very distinct possibility, since I'm quite sure that the love of sleep is deeply embedded in the fabric of my DNA.
She won’t watch the ‘Real Housewives’ 3 of 10Not even just Miami. She won't watch New York or New Jersey, either. In fact, she won't watch any TV. I've tried, like, really hard to get her into Elmo or these on-demand nursery rhyme programs on our cable system. But she won't watch TV. Not to chill out. Not for enjoyment. Not for nothing.
Which is kind of the core of what separates me from her: I need to escape, she's perfectly content exactly where she is.
Who is this kid?
Photo credit: BravoTV.com
She’s totally fine with a weekly bath 4 of 10If I don't shower daily, I can't function. Peony gets a bath once, maybe twice a week (yes, I'm that lazy). And you know what? She doesn't care. She does just fine, thankyouverymuch, on very little soap and water. And when she has strands of spaghetti stuck in her hair and dried sauce in her nostril? She keeps on keeping on like she hasn't a care in the world. Me? Drop a sesame seed on my sock and I have to change outfits.
She's so not my child.
She smiles at anyone 5 of 10How does such a crabby, generally stranger-averse mom produce a child who incessantly waves like Queen Elizabeth and grins brighter than a sunbeam at everyone she passes?
It's maddening, and further proof we don't share the same genes.
Endless curiosity 6 of 10Meh. What's there to see? Nothing new. Unless you're Peony, to whom everything seems new. Even the old stuff is stuff she wants to explore.
She won't take my word for it when something's not worthwhile, which means she's also not a good listener. And I totally am.
What was I saying?
Walking, walking and more walking 7 of 10Peony only started walking less than two months ago and she's already a pro at it. She doesn't want to be carried anywhere anymore. In fact, she doesn't quite realize that she's still just a toddler. She thinks she's a full on kid.
Me? Why walk when you can drive? Hell, if someone was kind enough to carry me anywhere, I'd be in their arms before the offer finished passing their lips.
She happily shares a room 8 of 10Peony spent the first 10 months of her life sharing a room with my husband and me. She moved into her older sister's room a few months ago and seems equally pleased — and not the least bit nonplussed — about making the change. She doesn't seem to want any time to herself or even any personal space.
Unlike me, who won't even call my bedroom "ours," as in my husband's and mine — because it's really just mine. It's just mine.
You would have thought I'd have passed along my non-sharing traits to my younger daughter. You would have thought.
She goes with the flow 9 of 10Peony is totally content having her schedule turned upside down on a dime at the whim of just about anyone else. She's just happy to be part of the gang, even if it means we drag her around and force her go without a nap or forget to feed her a snack. She hardly cries, protests or whines.
Throw a wrench in my schedule, on the other hand, and I will moan and mewl endlessly about the inconsideration of being inconvenienced.
Surely this child was not born of me.
She’s adorable when she cries 10 of 10I thought Peony was sweet when she was happy, but she's only cuter when she cries. That sounds wrong, but it's the truth.
Me? I only have one cry, and it's the ugly kind.
Who is this child and what has she done with mine?
Photo credits: iStock
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