Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Apple

She likes routine and makes up her own schedules.  Never mind that they change weekly; she is only ten.  There is always a process.  I have a schedule that I keep close, check off lists as tasks are completed.

She’d much rather do quiet indoor activities, much rather organize her room alone than run outside.  She cried when she was asked to weed the yard.  I watch her as she works and cries tears of frustration and general not-wanting-to-be-doing-this-stupid-chore.  My parents used to watch me from the window when they asked me to pick up the rotten apples that fell from our three apple trees, used to watch me cry in frustration.  I giggled a little.

She is a hard worker but can get bogged down in the details and must be reminded of the original mission.  I work better with a list and a timeframe, too.

She is afraid of the dark.  When she goes to bed I can expect questioning about where I’ll be in the house after she goes to sleep, can expect her to peek around the corner of her doorway down the hall to make sure I’m still there.  We are working on that, even though I remember being scared of the dark when I was young.  Leave the hall light on, please.

She likes having her own space.  She disappears to the basement for hours to play and watch TV.  She’s always done this, has always been the one who I could leave in the room for a minute and when I came back, she’d still be there.  She’s the quiet one, the low-maintenance one.  I know not to interrupt her; she is my heart down there, watching that one Spongebob episode for the tenth, maybe the twentieth time, just as I did with the Brady Bunch.

She emerges from her room with a braid in her hair, a new fragrance on her skin, a piece or three of jewelry, and do I see lip gloss?  She was in there for at least an hour.  This is what she was doing.  I had barrettes, lots of barrettes.

She is fierce about friends.  She makes them easily, but doesn’t mind having just a few to hold tight and share secrets with.  I get that; oh, how I get that.  Having a few great friends is better than having fifty okay ones.

She is tall and loves it, tries on the high heels at the shoe store because she wears a ladies’ size now. Give me some four-inch heels.  I like to see over everyone’s heads.

She loves school and is a very good student.  I studied for years after compulsory attendance, considered being a student my profession.

She is a sensitive soul, feels bad when others are sad.  She doesn’t mind hugging a sad friend, even a sad mom sometimes.  She always searches for a common ground, a connection, a way to find peace.  She wants to relate. 

She is just like me.


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This post inspired by:

Mama’s Losin’ It

Prompt #1:  Apple doesn't fall far from the tree... how is your child just like you?

16 comments:

  1. What a wonderful tribute to your daughter.

    I love how you toyed with the prompt, and used it as one of many ways in which you and your daughter are so similar.

    You have such a loving relationship. This blog will be a gift to your daughter when she gets older - seeing your love and respect for her all over each post.

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    1. Thank you so much, Tammy. I let her read it, and she said "Awww, mom, this is so cool. Thank you."

      It made my day.

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  2. So sweet! It sounds as though you have a lot in common with your daughter.
    And I agree with both of you - a few great friends are much better than a bunch of okay ones.

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    1. Thanks! Yeah, we have a lot in common. She also got some good parts from her dad, too. :)

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  3. oh, I love this so much! such a sweet little tribute. and a great photo, too!

    PS: can she really braid her own hair? can she teach me??

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    1. Thanks, and yes, she can braid.

      A little one, right in the front.

      I was also very impressed by that.

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  4. I think you really captured her here. At least, I now feel as if I know a little bit about her and a little more about you. Love this.

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    1. Thanks, Laura. That is a sweet thing to say. She read it, and didn't have any corrections for me, so I guess I got it mostly right. :)

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  5. How sweet! It's amazing how clearly we can see ourselves in our kids - both the good and the not quite so good :)

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    1. Thank you!! I used to lament that the kids got all of our bad qualities. But when you look at the good ones they have too, it's amazing how much you can see yourself in them. It's kind of good for the soul.

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  6. Two beautiful girls! Sometimes I see characteristics of me in my daughter, too. It's a little strange, and nice.

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    1. Aw, Thanks, Greta! It's cool to see our qualities reflected back at us, and I agree, it is a little strange. But I love it when people tell me we look alike. After they tell me she's beautiful, of course. ;)

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  7. My daughter and I are so much alike too. She gets anxious at night - not just about the dark, but all of her worries that have been shoved down during the day come bubbling up at night. She's creative, but not organised. She's bright but doesn't want to work for it, unless she's really passionate about it. Just like me. :-)

    I don't think my comment on your zillion billion blogs post went through, but basically to say - I'm with you on that one, heart and soul! I'm trying to catch up, but even now there are other projects threatening to take over.

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    1. Relating to our kids' personality characteristics is what I love most about being a parent. And most of what I love about blogging is knowing how many people can relate to what I'm trying to say. You never fail me there. :)

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  8. I love your stories.....never quit writing..

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    1. I appreciate that so much - thank you! I'm so happy you enjoy it.

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