It has long been obvious to me that I am raising a mini me in my oldest daughter Lily. She looks like me, she talks like me (i.e.. a lot) and she even thinks like me.
But it is a weird thing raising someone who reminds you so much of you. Sometimes it is like a mirror to parts of yourself you would like to forget.
Lily is an excellent student. School has always come easy to her. But a few weeks ago she brought home a quiz and she had missed one. ONE. She was super upset about it. And I remembered how I had stupidly high expectations for myself in school. I had a long talk with her about the difference between always trying her best and being too hard on yourself in school.
We had her conferences tonight. It wasn’t the first conference in which we heard that Lily has some trouble controlling her talking during class. It won’t be the last. She is a third generation inappropriate talker. She is fighting genetics here.
I have also spent the year watching her struggle a bit with some female friendships. Sigh. On this one I can relate too well. It also did not shock me at all when her teacher also told us that often Lily is better friends with the boys than the girls. I always preferred hanging with the guys then dealing with girl drama. It seems history is repeating itself once more.
The good news is, I know her so well and can talk to her with a great understanding of what she is going through. The bad news is, I know all too well what she is going through and have to sometimes let her go through it. Parenting isn’t for sissies y’all.