How young is too young?
That is, to start nurturing a love of cars?
You had to suspect, oh faithful reader, that I would push my love of the automobile on any offspring I happened to produce. It would be blasphemous of me not to.
But, as drawn as I am all things vehicularly inclined (car-covered onesies, car toys, t-shirts with cars on the front, shoes with little cars on the top, etc.), I wonder if all this automotive stimulus might put him off the whole thing later on in life.
Am I nurturing a love or helping him fester a later hatred?
Or am I just over-thinking the entire thing?
Today, Owen and I went for a lunch meet-and-greet at a local company, Fastco, I used to visit often before my little monster arrived. This was Owen’s debut, and he did beautifully (impressing all the ladies as usual and keeping his cool throughout my lunchtime rendez-vous). Though highly unnecessary, the team at Fastco presented Owen and I with a gift: a plush, pillow-like, MINI Cooper car.
I was immediately smitten with the little blue Cooper (and slightly jealous that it will reside in Owen’s room and not in mine — much to C’s delight). Owen’s fascination wasn’t quite as apparent, but I’m sure it will be soon.
Or will it?
Sometimes I get this sinking feeling that when Owen reaches an age where he can fully defy C and I without us being able to do much about it (oh those dreaded teenage years when they truly discover who they are) that he’ll transform into this granola-esque, energy-efficient-light-bulb-loving, bike-riding, fossil-fuel-hating green-y and it will all be because I pushed cars on him too much when he was younger.
Don’t children almost always push their parents and do the opposite of what they’re doting, hopeful ‘rents wish them to do? So if I constantly want him to love automobiles, I have this horrible feeling that one day he’ll turn to me and announce he’s never getting into a car again because they are smelly, noisy, earth-killing monsters.
Some mothers dread the day their kids come home smelling of pot and alcohol; I dread the day he tells me he hates cars.
Does that make me weird or just weirdly obsessed? I haven’t quite figured it out yet.
I have no doubt that Owen will grow up to be a strong-willed, confident little man (with a dad like C as a role model, he’s pretty much guaranteed to go that route), but I still hope he follows in a few or our footsteps. Mainly, those leading to the driver’s side of an automobile.