Life.

I've come to realize that little things make me happy: a tablecloth on the kitchen table, using my little juice glasses for orange juice, a loaf of homemade bread, a bowl with cherries on and in it, blueberries in my fridge, and seeing my daughter interact with others, watching her individuality bloom.

As a mother, I am constantly on the look out for her safety and well-being, while both correcting her when she misbehaves, and guiding her with proper social skills. (those who know me can go ahead and laugh and the last thing.) Sometimes (all the time) it's difficult to let her be her own person. You have to decide if you're correcting a misguided behavior or hindering her personality. When I send her to her room for not listening and get frustrated with her for saying, "NO!" to me, I try to remember that she's an individual. She's unique. And seriously, wouldn't it bug the hell out of me if some one constantly told me when, where, and what to do? Yes, it would. I know it would because I can vividly remember being annoyed with my parents for this. The circle of life, I suppose.