today while we were out and about i realized my older child was looking rather bedraggled, just like she likes it. she was wearing sweatpants tucked into cowboy pants, an oversized coca-cola bear t-shirt on, her hair looking halfway between curly and straight. “wow, that’s quite an outfit” i said to her. “yeah, isn’t it zany?” she said matter-of-factly. later, she sat on our couch in front of the windows, our cat looking over her shoulder. she is reading the first book in the Baby Sitters Club series, the books i used to adore. looking at her i had such a strange sensation. I was looking at me, but I wasn’t. she is fiercer, louder, more anxious and angry, able to communicate, wildly intelligent. but i was there too—the round face, eyes lost in a book, cat close by, that thick hair wild. we are so similar and so different, so close and yet always yearning for more connection.