Dearest C,

You are so smart.  You never cease to amaze me, catch me off guard, challenge me, and give me giant headaches.  And you’re only 4.  Honestly, I’m not looking forward to your tween and teenage years.  Any chance I’m getting the teenage years early, and you’ll be a super understanding and obedient daughter later?

I know, not likely.

You are just like me.  But magnified 10 times.  If I’m sensitive to criticism, you are even more so.  If I think I’m so smart, you think you’re smarter.  If I crave attention, you do so even more.  A mirror reflecting back all my strengths and also my flaws.

If only I could transmit all that I learned over the years to you at once.  So I’ll never have to watch you suffer, or struggle, or face sadness.  Only triumph.

I know, not likely.

You were struggling with me at piano practice, again today.  All you want to do is watch “Cinderella.”  All I want to do is tell you how unrealistic fairy tales are.  How the dream for a prince and happily ever after will only lead to disappointment.  How the focus on pretty dresses and nice hair is so superficial, even as I love dressing you up

How desperately I want you to develop a passion, a skill you can always be proud of, a sense of achievement conquering challenges, to know that you can.  Because you can!  I see it so clearly.  You have the talent.   My limited talent, magnified 10 times, the opportunity to start even earlier, the guiding coach by your side.

Am I ruining it?  Am I pushing too hard?

Will you have my perseverance, but magnified 10 times?  Will you have my confidence, but magnified 10 times?

Mom