On self-raising

For a few reasons, I sometimes I feel like I'm raising myself. There are moments in nearly every day with Ada that mirror home videos from my childhood so closely it's hard not to wonder if my mind has made-up said videos and replaced my own little toe-headed-toddler self with Ada.

She colors for spans of time equal to toddler eternity (thirty, forty-five minutes?! She can't even watch Sesame Street for this long) and while she does she often sings to herself, or narrates her drawings. If she sees one of her "pretty dresses" she insists on putting it on right that instant and then proceeds to "spin like a princess" before moving on to adorning herself in every necklace I own. Her mind seems to constantly be humming, processing, sorting information. Perhaps all toddlers in general seem a bit preoccupied because their little brains are taking in so much each moment. She easily collapses in frustration when she can't communicate like she wants or the moment she feels itchy (sound familiar, Mom?)

But I also feel like I'm raising myself (or, really, continuing the work my parents started). Being a baby having babies, there is still lots of room for self-raising. When I see Ada's tantrums I get so self reflective ignoring her behavior—waiting out her storm—is easy. But it makes me realize I don't take a lot of things well either. Is mothering always like holding a mirror up to yourself every day? People always say they learn more by having kids than by being a kid. And it's true. Because you see so much of yourself in them, moments of intense examination come all-too often.