When He Grows Up

I couldn't tell you how many times a week that John and I (and anyone else who will talk to me) discuss what we think Gabe will be when he grows up. Now, of course, when you have a boy, you have to pick a professional sport that, should your child grow to be a superstar, you'd choose for them to play. We're both okay with golf and baseball. John despises soccer. And it'll be ice hockey over my dead body.

Now if I had my druthers, Gabe would be a NFL kicker. He only goes in the game for a few minutes, there's slim chances of him getting hurt and duh, still lots of dough for him to spend on his mama. And you know what, the boy can kick a ball. I hope I'm not being the annoying mom who thinks her kid is a child prodigy but man, he's got some eye-foot coordination like no other. So I don't think I can allow any other position if he decides he wants to play football, although I cringe-ingly admit, he's already resembling a linebacker. But I can definitely picture myself sitting on the bleachers at football games, wearing a hoodie and drinking from a flask. That's what football moms do, right?

Obviously, we have no choice as to what our kids will be when they grow up. We can prod and push and pressure the crap out of them. But in 16 years or so (holy shit), Gabe's gonna have to make that decision on his own. So what if he's not into sports at all? Dude, I'm just fine with that too. He could get John's musical genes or my sentence-diagramming skills and run with those. It is fun to think about though, what this small boy, obsessed with cars and motorcycles at the moment, will do with his life.

Although right now, I'm leaning towards him being the next Jackson Pollock...

Look at that creepy eagle eye bag my mom brought over. That's gonna give me nightmares.

In other news, BlogHer is featuring my Internet School post today on their main page, as well as spotlighting it on the BlogHer Tech page! Aren't I fancy?!?