Stupid genes

I have, in the past month, figured out that I've managed to send some lovely genes down the line to my kids.

My eldest seems to have inherited the anxiety issues that run through my family in spades. So I'm teaching her meditation and yoga and aromatherapy. That's what works without adding meds to the mix, so we start there.

At the peds this morning, it came out that the middle guy has my nearsightedness. He's apparently had trouble reading the board "but only when I'm in the last two rows, Mom. It's ALWAYS fuzzy in the last two rows."

So when I make my eye appointment later this week, I'll make his as well. Poor tyke. Although I may have to do a video of him when he learns that tree leaves have definition and are not meant to be gobs of green. I still recall the moment I figured that out on the drive home from the optometrist when I was newly glassed.