People always say how much my kids look like Brandon, or like his side of the family. I rarely hear anyone say that they look like me. But aside from looks, Harlyn is me. A younger version, sure, but still.
I know Harlyn’s my daughter when:
- She spills one drop of water and starts crying.
- She gets reprimanded, or even gently corrected, and bawls her eyes out.
- She CANNOT handle a misplaced toy. Must. Find. It. Before. Bed.
- She tries something once, doesn’t get it perfect, and gets mad at herself.
- She heads STRAIGHT to her room the second she walks in the door from school for a few minutes of alone time.
- She wears comfy clothes whenever possible. Jeans at home? Nope. Not gonna happen.
- I look at her pinky toe. We have the same exact weird pinky toe nail.
There are so many times I hear Harlyn say something or watch her do something and think…WHAT HAVE I DONE TO HER?!?!? While she can certainly get goofy like her daddy, I think at her core, she is totally a “first child.” She is so Type A. I am hoping she learns to chill a little bit quicker than I did. Of course, I don’t have it totally figured out, but between a million years with laid back Brandon and becoming a mom, I am wayyy better than I used to be.
And even though I know she looks like B, every once in a while, I glance her way and I just see me. And our crazy-looking pinky toe nail.