I picked up jake from his Grandparents' house tonight. When I arrived, Natalie was on the phone with her Mother. Before we left, Grandma told Jake, Give your Mommy a kiss good night and held out the phone. Jake leaned over, said Good night Mommy then carefully kissed the ear piece of the phone.
I thought it odd - why didn't he kiss the mouthpiece? Because he hears his Mother's voice through the ear piece. Sometimes, a three-year's logic is flawless.
One of the biggest things I notice about having a kid is how much every comment or compliment directed toward him impacts me. No matter how I try to avoid it, I live through my son. His success are my success. His failures are my failures.
This is not such a bad thing until I realize it must have been exactly the same for my parents. Growing up, I never once considered that. I thought their life was separate and distant from my own. Being the youngest, I figured they barely even considered me as a person until my siblings moved out of the house. I was wrong. I'm sure there are some generational differences - maybe we yuppies dote on our kids a bit more than the Depression Era parents. But I can't imagine that my actions ever escaped their gaze. And I'm pretty sure that every big decision I ever made weighed as heavily on them as well as me.
It's like suddenly realizing you're under surveillance.