When you're pregnant you wonder which parts of you and your husband are going to be mysteriously transmitted to your unborn child. Upon meeting your baby, you see the physical attributes he inherited right away. Oh, look, he's got his dad's ears. Sorry. And, hey, his nose curls up just like mine. Isn't that cute? Then, there are the traits that take a little longer to show themselves. I was thinking about that a few nights ago when my son pulled an all-nighter completing a college project. If he had been away at school, I probably would not have known anything about it. Since he's not, I saw the downside of the genetic pool wreak havoc with my unfortunate son. He definitely inherited the procrastination gene from his mom.
I've tried hard over the years to break myself of this loathsome habit. I've read books and listened to motivational speakers. I've bought desk calendars and leather planners. I even married the most logical, self-motivated, diligent person on the planet. All to no avail. I know what I should be doing with my time (writing, cleaning my house, organizing my paperwork) just as much as my son knows what he should be doing with his (homework, studying, cleaning his bathroom). Too often, I find myself "encouraging" him to stay on task and not waste time. But I feel like a hypocrite chastising him for playing a video game while I'm catching the latest episode of Modern Family. He swears that he's getting a handle on managing his time. He says he knows he's capable of doing a better job. I want to believe him. After all, he has one thing going for him that I don't. His dad's genes are floating around in there somewhere.
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