I have gotten better over the years, but I have always preferred to see myself as possessing qualities that I *wish* I had, rather than the stark, naked truth of the qualities that I *do* own. I prefer to see myself in soft focus, if you will. It's a lot prettier that way.
But as I watch Madeline grow, I am amazed by how much she resembles me - she seems to have popped out a mini copy of me - faults, strengths, and all. Being the delusional person I am, for some reason, when I was pregnant and envisioned my daughter-to-be, I pictured her being the girl that I always soft focused myself into believing I was. She would be sweet...and kind...and patient...and girlish...and gentle. Ha.
Instead, she is fiery, impatient, silly, demanding, smart, vibrant...and different than other girls.
I go to pick her up today and the two other little girls in her class see me enter the room - one grabs Madeline's coat and the other Madeline's bag and hands them to me. What little helpers. Madeline, on the other hand, sees me enter the room, and with a happy squeal runs in the opposite direction - grabs two books off the bookshelf to show me, happily chattering in excitement. Being a bit of a spaz (yes, she even inherited that from me) she tripped over a chair in her enthusiasm and one of the little girls tried to soothe her with a hug. Oh, but my Madeline wants no feminine sympathy. No, not for her. She pushes the girl off with a disdainful glare, a warning squawk to stay away, and runs out of the room without even a goodbye or backwards glance. That's *my* girl.
And I was the same way. Other girls wanted to play house - I wanted to do cartwheels and climb trees. Other girls dressed up as princesses and angels - I came to school as Underdog. Other girls could wait for the entire group to head to lunch together - I was hungry and impatient, and would run ahead to get to the head of the lunch line faster. Let's face it - I was not cool.
And so having a daughter that is so like me, has really helped me be comfortable seeing myself as I am, faults, strengths, and all. And I'm happy about that, because I want to raise Maddie to feel good about herself for who she is, and not feel compelled to blur her vision of herself so that it matches up to what she thinks she *should* be. Instead, I want her to protect that core of fierce individuality. She is special, my girl, and I wouldn't have her be any other way.
2 comments:
Oh the dreaded "should" disease. Since Maddie will get enough of that from other places, I'm delighted for her that she won't get it from her wise mommy.
I was the Wolf in a "Little Red Ridinghood" play in kindergarten, so I am very happy that I have a boy because I don't know how to do 'girl' things! I admire your courage to accept and to allow Maddie be who she is.
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