I stand at the kitchen sink, warm water flowing over clean dishes as I put them on the drying rack. Suddenly, the lull of the water is pierced by a high-pitched giggle. I see a flash of brown as my dog streaks through the room, followed closely by my almost two-year-old. She laughs, her big blue eyes alight with joy, as she chases her "oggy" with a toy stroller. I tell her for (at least) the millionth time today to slow down, and go back to rinsing dishes. Two plates and a cup later, I realize that it is quiet -- too quiet, in fact. I turn off the water, wipe my hands on my jeans, and make my way to the living room. There, I find this beautiful, blonde, perfect little gremlin sitting on the floor in the middle of every DVD that we own. She is meticulously trying to open them, determined to find the movie she wants to watch. As she hears me enter, she grins and says, "Momma -- look!" while proudly displaying her mess. A sigh escapes my lips, and I bend to pick up the DVDs that had been so neatly arranged just five minutes prior.

This scene is not something that comes from a movie. It is not a moment captured on film by a high profile movie director. This, my friends, is life. Real, honest, raw, hectic life. Raising a child is no small task, especially when it comes to toddlers. My daughter is smart, funny, sassy, beautiful and all around great. On the same note, she is also loud, messy, stubborn, her daddy's mini-me (which seems entirely unfair) and basically hell on wheels. There are so many moments when I feel like running to the bathroom, locking the door, and hiding in the bathtub with a glass of wine. Maybe even a bottle of wine. There are moments when I literally break down in tears, the sheer exhaustion this little maniac has caused finally taking its toll on me. Then there are the moments that make every stain, sticky chair, tantrum, and scream worth it. Moments when she looks up at me with her big blue eyes and says, "Momma I love you sooooo much!" Moments where she wants me to lay by her bed and hold her hand until she falls asleep. Moments when she wakes, and before her eyes are fully open, she is softly asking for "Momma". These moments --the ones that remind me that she has a heart of gold--are absolutely priceless.

Don't get me wrong -- I love my daughter with everything in me. However, some days, she is a complete mess. Somewhere between the crying (hers and mine), the meltdowns, and the screeches, I am reminded of the fact that she is a person. She has thoughts, feelings, ideas, and opinions. She is constantly growing and learning. She is entitled to her emotional moments. After all, why is it ok for me, as an adult, to have moments of stress and anger that cause me to lash out, but not my daughter? She is still growing. She is still learning how to process her emotions. I may not understand the reasoning behind her throw-myself-on-the-ground-and-scream attitude because SHE didn't get to shut the dryer door, but there is a reason. To her, this was an accomplishment. A small joy that was denied to her by my haste to get things done. She doesn't understand. To her, this was a tragedy. This was the iceberg to her Titanic. Sometimes, as a very busy mom, I forget this thought. I forget that she is little. Her personality and attitude are so big, but she is still little. I forget to stop and realize that she is not an adult. She cannot process things the way that I do. When I get frustrated with her, and she looks at me with tears in her eyes, I instantly feel guilty for forgetting this crucial piece of information.

I am blessed with a child who has a big heart, a wild spirit, and an amazing personality. With that, she also has a stubborn side (which she gets honest), a fiery temper, and a huge voice that she is not afraid to use. It is not my job as her mother to stamp out the fire. It is my job to help her learn to use it for greatness. I do not want to break her spirit -- I want her to be strong and independent. I want her to grow up and believe in herself. I want her to have the confidence and knowledge that it takes to make it in this world. Most of all, I want her to remember that no matter what, mommy is always here for her. In the meantime, there will be days where we will butt heads. We will make each other cry. We will stand our ground, each of us graced with a strong will that cannot be broken. We will also have a bond that cannot be matched. A love that only exists between mother and daughter. In the meantime, I will continue to wipe sticky fingerprints from my freshly cleaned windows, pick up shreds of toilet paper from the new roll, and wipe down her muddy face. I will also continue to give her hugs, spend hours cuddling her on my lap, and watch "Beauty and the Beast" for the 800,000th time. I'll continue to do these things not only out of love, but out of pride in the fact that she is part of me. She is my legacy.

Now, excuse me while I go remove dog food from my child's mouth. Extra protein.....right?