Not Just Her Fathers Daughter

For the longest time, anything I ever heard anyone say about Emery, was how much she looked like her father. Even I would say it. Because it’s the truth. She looks just like her dad. Had things not gone right for us in our marriage, and he’d try to deny her, the judge would have probably laughed in his face. So, I’ve never really looked too hard into who she resembles the most, because I just assume she’s her fathers daughter. Temper and all.

But recently, that’s changed. Not the temper, or her looks. But as she grows, more of me is shining through. The shape of her eyes. The curls (even though they aren’t tight) in her hair. Her button nose. Her laugh. Her booty, or lack of. Sorry baby girl. The way she puts one hand on her hip. And finally her stubbornness has hit an all time high. Something, I’m pretty well acquainted with in myself.

Then, last Friday while she and her dad went to our local swimming pool, they came back with a story. Turns out my daughter smacked a little boy that was bothering her. Apparently, she told him to stop not once but twice. And when he spit water in her face she looked at my husband, then back at the little boy, and smacked him. The boys father got angry and had words with my husband. My husband handled the situation and walked away, but he refused to discipline Emery which apparently annoyed this little boys father. I don’t condone violence but we’ve both agreed to not punish Emery if she’s not in the wrong. The kid was warned. Repeatedly. And he still continued to harass her.

Now, when my husband was telling us this story my father laughed, and said that Emery was a firecracker "just like her mother". See, I too got into fights. Not at first. But after being bullied on my school bus. I would cry the whole way to school. And once I was there, I would cry some more. My aunt would literally have to pick me up, put me on the bus, and run. Finally a teacher had to have a meeting with my parents. And in front of them she told me:

“If you give them fair warning and they don’t listen. Just wait until the bus driver isn’t looking and give them a pop on the nose.”

Wise words, LOL! And I took them for what they were worth. I was never messed with again. This teacher, though not really condoning violence, knew I was being tormented. She knew that at some point, I’d have to defend myself. After talking with the principle and the other kids parents, the bullying hadn't ceased. So she did the only thing she could, and told me it was okay to hit back. I've been grateful to her ever since.

So, after hearing this story of Emery I couldn’t help but beam with pride. My little girl may not look exactly like me, but I’m pretty positive that she has my fire. She has my spirit, and my determination. And who wouldn't be proud of that? Of a little lady that stuck up for herself, and held her ground. She’s my very own little firecracker. And I couldn't be happier about her getting that from me.