In my shoes

Every morning as I get dressed for the day, Caroline is right by my side taking in the whole thing. She goes in my closet and tries on my shoes, my shirts, carries my purses…anything she can get her hands on. When I put on my makeup she has to have some too. So I let her use my makeup brushes and we put on lots of clear lipgloss. If I have freshly painted toes, she wants polish on her toes too, “just like you Mama”.

When I overhear her in her playroom, it’s like hearing a recording of myself as she talks to her baby dolls. I watch her tuck them in, kiss them, and say “Night night sweet girl, I love you so much. Go to sleep.”

She got a doctor kit for her birthday and she loves for me to pretend to be sick. She’ll put her little hand on my forehead and say “Mama, do you have a fever?” And she’ll tend to me and pretend to cook me something and pour me a cup of tea.

Right now she thinks I am the greatest. “Mama, you look beautiful”, “Mama, I want my hair to be shiny like yours”, “Mama, you’re my favorite mama”. It’s an overwhelming thought to think that I am the one who will show her, teach her and guide her along her journey to being a woman.

It’s an incredible responsibility and one that I am completely ill equipped for in and of myself. I can be impatient, I tend to get stressed out, and I don’t always know when to keep my mouth shut. I am flawed…really flawed. So as I pray for wisdom as I guide my daughter through her life and all that will hold, I realize that the best thing I can do is look at my Heavenly Father and make as much effort to imitate Him as she does to imitate me.