She’s loud. She’s mouthy. She’s spirited. She’s willful. She’s sassy. She’s too much. She’s my daughter.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now, no two people are exactly alike, but I always feared (and now I know, rightfully so) that I wouldn’t be able to escape the tough time I had given my Mom, over the years. And that I would probably experience retribution through my own children. Soren is soft and sweet and gentle like his Dad…and so the idea of having this girl, a girl like me in any way, freaked me out.

From the time she was growing inside me, she was kicking, flipping, never-ending, throwing jarring power punches. It never stopped. On the outside, she tests everyone, she pushes the limits, she kicks down my boundaries, she’s full of joy and piss and vinegar. And as she starts preschool this week, I find myself wondering what tools will she need that only I can give her? Why she was given to me? How can I encourage in her all of her strengths, not diminish any of her passion but help her learn to filter herself when appropriate? How do I lead by example?

I wonder, will she say exactly what she’s thinking, exactly when she’s thinking it?
I have A LOT of experience with this one. I have cringed more times than I’d like to count, reflecting on something I said without thinking. It’s a fine line to be genuine and true to yourself while considering the impact of what you say. It’s taken me 38 years and I still screw it up. All the time. But while I can look back and say I wish I’d refrained from verbal diarrhea, I also have to admit it’s liberating to be able to just say what’s in your head, what’s on your heart. I just want her to think about what she’s going to say for one second before it flies.

Will she be a hugger?
I watch her overwhelm other toddlers with physical affection. I can teach her (earlier than I learned) about social cues. Who doesn’t need a hug? Some people actually don’t. It’s a shame really, and it’s their loss but I’ve learned don’t hug the unhuggable.

Will she have a hot head?
Believe in what she believes in so fiercely that she’ll go down swinging? Overprotect the ones she loves to a fault? Maybe she’ll exert that energy on only worthy causes. From experience, I can help her discern who and what’s a worthwhile use of that energy.

Will she be soft and sensitive underneath her tough exterior?
Really fragile sometimes. Maybe I won’t try to guide her with that one at all. It’s our most redeeming quality.

I just hope I have wisdom and the right words to impart, to never change a thing about her but to help guide what’s there, in the raw. So strong, so sure, so free to be herself. So as she grows, so will I. Every day since I had her, I’ve grown more and more tolerant of myself. Less and less critical. Seeing so much of who I am in someone I love so much has helped me see “our” traits differently. I will celebrate our similarities so that she will too. And if the idea is for me to accept my idiosyncrasies more, and beat myself up less. If the idea is that I love the things I’ve always found less lovable about myself, because they’re reflected in someone so precious to me, then God has an awesome sense of humor. And I’ve certainly met my match.