Mini Me

The winter in southeastern PA has been none too kind. This corner of the state has endured every snow, ice and cold that anyone could begin to imagine. People were trapped inside their homes, for days on end, with nothing left to do but wait for Spring. To avoid the inevitable cabin fever, I tried my best to get out with my Little Chica.  When the weather was brutally cold and snowy, my weekly (daily? How honest are we being here?) routine consisted of walking around the Exton Square Mall.    It was indoors, heated, entertaining, and free (most days I was able to restrain from any kind of formal shopping). I like the mall.  I like being around people.  And, in the middle of a bad winter, I liked being anywhere but my own house.

A few weeks ago, on one of the first days in which the temperature climbed into the 40's (huzzah! huzzah!), I decided to  change things up, and directed my sights to Main Street in Exton.  Located not far from the mall, Main Street is a collection of shops modeling a generic downtown. Patrons are able to walk outside from shop to shop. After being held hostage in my house for weeks on end, it gave me the opportunity to walk around outside between stores instead of being confined to a large building (no offense, mall).  This meant fresh air and exercise for Little Chica and I.  It was exactly what we needed.

Our first stop was a clothing store.  Little Chica and I enjoyed perusing the merchandise, lazily meandering from rack to rack.  When we arrived at the children's section, Little Chica was quickly taken by a display of children's sunglasses.  She used to have a pair of her own, but they now too small for her face.  I checked the prices, and the glasses were on sale. (Parent Note: I also believe in caring for the health of our eyes, so I feel that getting her to consistently wear sunglasses might be a good habit to get into.)

I said to Little Chica (who is 18-months old),  "Would you like a pair of sunglasses?  I know your old ones don't fit anymore."  

Little Chica nodded enthusiastically, so we set out to pick out the perfect pair. There were a lot of fun styles. I showed her a white pair.  She shook her head strongly, "no". So I shrugged and put them back.  She grabbed a pair of plain pink shades.  Little Chica is really into hearts right now, and there was a red pair of heart-shaped sunglasses.  I thought she'd love them, but upon showing them to her, she batted them away, and shoved the plain pink ones in my face. I showed her blue ones, brown ones, small ones, large ones.  But Little Chica kept coming back to the same pink pair.  I was really surprised that she had such a strong opinion, especially since they didn't really seem like "her."  

"Are you sure these are the sunglasses you want? You don't want the hearts?" I asked.  Little Chica shook her head again and pointed to my head and said, "Mommy."

Confused, I reached to the top of my head, and suddenly realized what was happening.  I grabbed my own pair of pink sunglasses off my head, and held them in front of Little Chica.  

"Do you want the pink pair because they look like Mommy's sunglasses?" I inquired, tears starting to slightly well behind my eyes.

Little Chica's mouth turned into a big toothy grin as she slipped on the plain pink pair of shades she had picked out.  "Mommy, " she stated affirmatively.

It was the first time in my daughter's life that she had ever admired something about me.  Although it was a small gesture, I was immediately flooded with a sense of pride.  My daughter wants to be like me!  How awesome is that?!  As the moment passed, and we were both sporting our pink sunglasses, the larger implications of that thought set in.  And I began to panic.

My daughter wants to be like me.

What am I setting her up to become?  I was suddenly aware that, as parents, we are role models, whether we want to be or not.  Our children look up to us in everything we do, all the time.  They mimic every action, taking in everything we say. They will inevitably acquire our characteristics, making them a part of who they are and who they will become.  One day, our children will then pass those traits on to their own children. The thought of my strange quirks, hindering idiosyncrasies, and distracting peccadilloes continuing to live on in future generations is overwhelming and somewhat mortifying.  In response, we parents are faced with a very humbling question:  Am I someone worth emulating?

Ever since that fateful day of shopping, I've spent a lot of time thinking about who I am and what I am passing on to my daughter (and future children).  I know that while I do have some redeeming qualities, there is so much of me that needs refining. There is great comfort in the fact that we are works-in-progress.  We can change, adapt, better ourselves.  And what better impetus for change than our children?

Who knew that an epiphany could arise over a pair of sunglasses?  I am so thankful for the awakening, though.   It has caused me to wake up everyday asking myself, "Am I someone worth emulating," and empowered me with the confidence and motivation to do something about it.

When not spending time with her adorable hubby, grabbing lunch with friends, wrangling a toddler or keeping the household functioning, you can find Steph blogging at Confessions of a Stay-At-Home Mom