I love my daughter. I wanted a girl. It just had to be a girl. I gave her the name I always wanted. I gave her my maternal grandmother's name as her middle name. The strongest, smartest woman I have ever known. I was intoxicated from the moment she was born. I would hold her & just bawl-she was so beautiful. And mine. How was it possible? That I created this perfect creature? Her personality is so contagious. A creative, free, honest spirit. She believes in good & cannot fathom bad. Her imagination is beyond what most can fathom. Her love a gift. Oh but do we bump heads. So different, yet just alike. As she gets bigger (taller anyway) I yearn to rewind time. But I am trying to embrace the new her. The school-aged Ali who can read, converse & do even more. I start to worry about bullies, her self-esteem & boys. How do I protect her without a bubble? Without crushing her dream of a perfect, loving world with a dose of reality and lessons learned?
~Queen Crazy Mum of Insanityville
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