is eerily following my footsteps…I can see her eyeing me while I cook, clean, drive…she’s only 8 years old. I remember at that age, I used to tell my mother that I wanted to be just like her when I grew up, and her response was always that she wanted me to be better than her. At that time, I didn’t think that was possible. But now, having been put in the role of the mother being admired by the daughter, I, too, want her to be better than me when she grows up. I feel compelled to set a better example for her, to show her, as well as tell her, how a young lady sits, acts, speaks, and lives, while affirming her belief that she can do and become anything she wants, so long as she has the drive, determination, and will to make it happen. It’s hard being under a microscope, and knowing full well that all of my actions, as well as my words are being recorded in her brain and interpreted as the way that things are to be done.