Now, being the terrible mom that I am, I'm not worried about vaccines, or organic vs. regular food, or diaper rash or anything normal like that. Frankly, none of that ever crosses my mind. We vaccinate. We buy food that he will eat, regardless of whether or not it's 'organic'. And diaper rash is usually cured by diaper cream. No, my worries are much greater.
I'm worried that my kid will be a jock.
Now, I am a self-proclaimed nerd. And Patrick is proud of the fact that he was the nerd standard in middle school. We're both very happy and comfortable with our identity. He is that guy who will ramble for weeks about the differences between various electrical components found in your average remote. I'm that girl who will correct your grammar. Repeatedly. We're both comfortable with our insane levels of nerd-ity.
And our son can already 'dribble' a miniature soccer ball.* And he throws a ball with far more accuracy than a 13 month old should be able to. Truth be told, he throws a ball with far more accuracy than I can muster. And he picks up dance steps just by watching them.
So, needless to say, I was starting to worry. And then, this morning, my faith was restored.
This morning, after putting the DVD's back on the shelf for the third time, I decided I needed a distraction for Miles. Blocks didn't work. Neither did books. Or tickles. Or even the drum. So, I consulted the Bad Mommy handbook, and popped in a movie.
I let him choose from the pile that he had left on the floor. He picked up Star Trek. I was thrilled. Then, he sat there, enthralled, throughout the entire thing. And at the end, after Spock said, "to boldly go where no one has gone before," and the Enterprise leaped into warp? My son, who can throw and kick a ball, and seems to have more coordination than I ever will? He waved, and said, "Bye-bye!"
And then danced through the credits.
I love my kid.
*I only know that term because my older sister loved soccer and played all through high school.
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