Unfairly projecting upon my poor, unsuspecting children

When Addison was born, I worked at a shelter for homeless families in Eugene. I didn't want to quit working after his birth, but I didn't want to leave him in childcare either, so I took him to work with me. I carried him with me first in a soft, front carrier, and then in a rigid frame back carrier when he was bigger. I worked five hours a day and nursed him on my breaks. It worked well and fit into our attachment parenting lifestyle. The staff and guests at the shelter thought Addison was a bit spoiled (you can't spoil a baby, so ha) and they called him The King. This irritatied me to no end....don't label my kid, right? But at this point in his life, I think he would make a pretty decent king after all. He likes rules, he is into both justice an propriety, he is a natural leader, he is a peace activist and he knows how to delegate....he is a delegating pro...just ask Rosie. She, on the other hand, I would not vote queen. The words 'off with her head' come immediately to mind. Rosie, despite her small stature and unfathomable beauty, is a warrior at heart. Sort of a pixie warrior. Woe to the man who crosses her when she is grown. Maia, new as she is, already has such a developed personality. She is the diva. I've been threatening to trade in her crib (as yet unused) on a merlot hued velvet chaise lounge complete with pool boy bearing grapes. She's not particularily fussy or demanding, but she seems to take such pleasure in the finer things in life. The finer things in her life right now being warm milk, soft blankies and dappled sunshine. She may not grow up to be wealthy, but I imagine she might grow up to spend her tips on Godiva chocolates and weekly peducures.