Reaping What I Sow

I'm not always sure whether my children look/sound/act like me or whether they are not, at various times, either angels in human form sprung fully developed from the head of Zeus (it was Zeus in that myth, wasn't it?) or aliens sent from the planet Bizarro to drive me insane, but one thing I know for sure. Maya's sleep habits were inherited directly from her mother. Why how do I know this, you ask? Easy. She hates going to sleep, no matter how exhausted she is. She always seems afraid that she'll miss out on something if she succumbs and goes to bed. Once she's in bed she'd rather read, play, something, anything but sleep. She can spend hours dragging the process out. Last night, she was put to bed at about 9:30pm, and didn't fall asleep until nearly midnight! (Which of course meant that to get any good quiet time in, her equally ridiculous mother ended up staying up until well after 2am!). Then, come the next morning, she turns from 3 year old into teenager - refusing to acknowledge my trying to wake her up, literally pulling the covers back over her head and rolling over to face the wall, all the same shenanigans her mother used to pull in high school.

It can be exhausting at times, but I can't really get mad at her for it. After all, she got it straight from me. And I might as well just make my peace with it, since it's not like I have a lot of hope that she'll outgrow it - after all, I'm 37, and I haven't yet.

PS My little sister, who was too responsible for her own good, used to have the job of trying to get me out of bed every morning in high school (so that I could get us both there in time). She's now sitting back and just laughing, laughing, laughing as she watches karma come back to bite me on the butt.