I was at the copy machine the other day (I really don't spend an excessive amount of time copying, despite appearances to the contrary. It was my turn to copy homework for the week). I was looking around, zoning out because copying is boring, when I saw one of my former students working in his classroom. I noticed how much he's changed in only three years, and I started thinking about former students who are even older. I thought about times when I've run into them and didn't recognize some of them. Some look exactly the same but bigger, while others look entirely different than when I had them in first grade. Many are shaving and their voices have changed. Some are even driving, which is a trip because in my mind's eye they're still trying to figure out how to tie their own shoes.
For some reason, I started imagining my own (someday) son as a teenager, wondering what he would look like, about how it would feel to hug a nearly-grown man while remembering when he could fit in my lap. I wondered if the student I was seeing in his classroom at that moment looked like a combination of his mom and dad. I pictured his parents and decided he did look exactly like that. My mind turned to our child and I wondered again what our (someday) son would look like. I hoped that he would look like my handsome DH. I pictured DH's face in the photos I've seen of him as a teenager and then pictured that face on the nearly-grown man that would be my son.
Suddenly all such thinking screeched to a halt when one part of my mind caught up with the other. I realized that our son won't look like DH or some combination of DH and me. We're adopting so our son will look like some mix of his birthparents, not us. How could I have forgotten that? I could only laugh a little at myself. I think I actually said, "Duh!" out loud. It's not a word I use often but it seemed to fit the moment. It's amazing the tricks your mind can play on you. Maybe it was just the copy machine-one more reason to stay away from it . . .