In the delivery room, BabyGirl shocked QM by not being a carbon copy of yours truly. In QM's mind, BabyGirl would come out looking just like I did. She would behave just like I did. She would be me made over.
It was simply not the case. I've been told she looked just like her daddy by everyone who knew him as a child...except his mother who said BabyGirl looked just like her mother - Husband's grandmother (which I can promise you was absolutely not the case. She looked nothing like MIL's mother as an infant. I know. I have Grandma In Town's baby picture). When I saw a picture of FIL as a baby there was a definite resemblance between grandfather & granddaughter...in a more feminine, cuter way. For one brief moment in the delivery room, BabyGirl looked just like Inkling's Little Brother 1981. That was a tad unsettling. Not what I expected at all. She had her Uncle Bubba's mouth, but the rest was Husband.
Then along came #1 Son whom I really wanted to resemble me. He did me one better & looked just like my dad. Still does. He has a good deal of his Bucka in him as well, but very little of me (looks wise...his personality is very similar to mine at that age).
B.B., I fear, was cloned from stolen cells from his father. He looks like Husband. He acts like Husband. He is fearless like Husband. He's a handful...just like Husband. They are 2 peas in a very busy, very wild pod.
Then...finally...six years after starting the journey, came Bitsy. Tiny, precious, dark headed Bitsy. Bitsy who looks Just. Like. Me. Bitsy who sucks her fingers just like me (with her own twist...literally. She sucks her index & middle finger with her wrist flipped so her palm faces up). Bitsy who acts a great deal like me...as long as no one is looking.
I was not a shy child in general. QM said I would stick close by her long enough to get the feel of a room, then I was off to entertain. Bitsy isn't one for strangers. Heck, Bitsy isn't one for people in general unless they've been in her life a long time. But once comfortable she turns into Baby June. She'll sing, dance, tell stories, play games, mother the older FarmHands, and boss everyone around.
When people tell her, "You look just like your mama," and she buries her head in my leg or shoulder, I respond with, "Yeah, and it only took 4 tries to get one that did."
(The picture is me at about 2 years old surrounded by my cousins who shall remain unseen to protect the innocent...HA! You obviously haven't met my cousins.)