I got the chance to spend some special quality time with my little girl this weekend. It was a great night out seeing the hottest concert around and I was excited for the one-on-one time and to surprise her since she turned eight a few weeks ago. Its amazing to see her growing up right in front of me. You should really see her. She's this beautiful, smart, funny, talented, independent, caring and sensitive young woman in a little girls body. I sometimes look at her and I'm completely in awe--how did I get have a part in creating this amazing little creature? I am truly the lucky one.
Many people think she looks just like me. I have to say no way. She's beautiful in a way I've never been able to pull off. She's confident in things that would make me cringe. She's athletic, which I've never aspired to be. Beautiful, straight, dark brown hair that I would kill to have naturally. And the deepest, most serious brown eyes that have a way of turning her daddy into putty in her hand. She's like nothing I've ever seen. Oh I'm sure that you could find plenty of people in the world that you would say are "prettier" but no one compares to my Anna Frances, and she is a part of me.
She's a little example of a true paradox. She is fiercely independent, especially when it comes to dealing with me, but at the same time she can be terrified to venture on her own in new situations. We clash in heated arguments over simple things that shouldn't be a big deal, but she always (almost always) comes back to me at the end of the day with more love than I've ever thought I had a right to. The most common thing that we share is our stubborness, our attitude and our dealings with one another. She really is a little version of me, but not in looks as you might think. She's got a similar spirit and somedays I know I'm in trouble. It's those difficult days where I think that one of us may end up on a milk carton that make me call my own mother and apologize!!!
To say that I was a natural when it came to being her mother is a gross exaggeration. Bringing her home from the hospital was the most terrifying thought of my life eight years ago. You would think I was working toward a PhD with all the books I read and studying I did before she was born. Unfortunately, none of that information did much to help me when the moment of truth finally arrived. It's like learning to drive by reading a manual and then actually getting behind the wheel of a car.
I've always worked very hard to parent her "by the book", now which book that is I haven't exactly figured out! All I knew was that I wanted a child that people "didn't mind to see coming". You know what I mean, there's always that kid that think "oh great, we have to deal with THAT kid." I just never wanted THAT kid. I've never said my children are perfect, but at least I'm trying! Because of that, and because she's the first child and was an only child for almost seven years, we, well more like, I have been pretty strict on her. I wanted to teach her so many things: be responsible, be respectful, be neat, be honest, be...
Being a parent is really hard, you know? I want to be a good parent and raise her to be a responsible, well-adjusted adult. There's this real struggle to balance along a fine line. I want her to be adventurous, but cautious...to take school/life seriously but know how to have fun...to want the best for herself but take care of others...to have pride in herself and her accomplishments but also to be humble. I also want her to know that she's a beautiful person no matter who's looking and that she is one person that she will have to live with for the rest of her life.
I want my children to have everything that this world has to offer and to know that every opportunity is hers, but also know that most of us never had that option and were never so lucky. I want her to be able to have a wonderful childhood and focus on hopes and dreams of her future but also know that life in general is really tough and really hard work.
I feel as though life is a paradox, with each day, each decision just one big contradiction. I want my girls to have all the things I never had but to also be thankful and gracious and see that everyone is not so lucky. I want my girls to know about hard times and hard life but also want no child to feel those same pains of heart ache. How do you teach the lessons that only pain can teach while working like hell to make sure you protect your children from the same pain?
These are the questions that keep me up many nights. I think sometimes about struggles in my own life and childhood and realize that they made me the person that I am today. I've spent my whole life running from so many thoughts and memories and trying to out run those demons. Someday maybe I can even embrace them as character builders. But right now I'm working on the childhoods of two very special little girls that I would do anything in this world for and just trying my hardest not to screw it up.
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