Coffee – then adulting.

Do you ever wonder why you didn’t get the career genes or the hobby genes from your parents?

What I mean is, my mom was a teacher. My grandmother was a teacher. Guess it skipped a generation? I lost my shit trying to teach my then-third grader math during the pandemic lockdowns. I barely know how to do anything kids are learning nowadays. Plus, I just can’t relate to kids (my own kids remind me of that all the time). I don’t think teaching is in my future.

Then there is the green thumb. My parents have a beautiful garden that anyone would envy. I love to buy plants and flowers. But I look at them and just feel overwhelmed knowing the care that goes into growing them. I suppose I can be proud that some hostas I planted are still growing nearly 3 months later.

I see a pattern: Maybe it’s the “nurturing gene” I didn’t get.

The cooking gene is another one that passed me and went to my brother.

Personality traits – now those I did get.

I know it’s nothing to worry about – every child charts their own path when it comes to careers and interests. But I wonder if they wonder whether they did something wrong that prevented these valuable life skill genes from transferring to me.

I can’t help but feel ashamed that their specialties don’t come easier. Is it me, or is it a generation thing?

I did get a love of history and reading and travel from them, which has shaped my perspective on life in profound ways. So that counts, right? The rich experiences they took me and my brother on has been passed along, and I am grateful for that.

However, as I look out on the weed “garden” that needs constant maintenance and the recipes that need preparing, I feel a sadness of never living up to the expectations I should.