Mini She

{Clara and me at our annual Valentine's Party.  

She was too fat for the Vintage '80s heart outfit of my babyhood but I squished her in anyway.}

I had a baby girl in September.  She is beautiful and calm and an absolute dream, really.  But she doesn't look a thing like me.  She came out with a thick head of dark hair.  And her face?  My husband says it is his sister's.  My dad says it is my Nana's.  Some say it is my mom's.  Some say it is my my mother-in-law's.  One day I dug up some old baby pictures at my mom's house.  "Don't you think this kind of looks like her, except with no hair?" I asked my husband.  "Sorry, honey.  Not at all."  I didn't really mind, of course.  Except for the part of me that always dreamed of a mini-me.  A little girl with a blonde bob who loved ballet class.  Shouldn't my daughter look like me and sort of be just like me?

Then one day, as I sat nursing her, oohing and ahhing over her wild curls and rosy cheeks, it hit me.  "She's not mini-me" I thought.  She isn't Anne part II, she is CLARA.  She is her own person.  She has her own look.  And she's going to have her own thoughts.  And her own interests.  And her own dreams.  Maybe she'll want to play softball instead of take ballet.  And maybe the excitement I felt singing and dancing on stage will be what she feels when she cozies up with a favorite book.

Her hair is lightening up.  And I have a suspicion she'll adopt a personality trait or two.  And certainly I pray I can teach her to be good and virtuous and hard-working and grateful and kind.  But I have to let her be her.

I can hardly wait to see who she becomes.

xo,
anne