Social Worker In Training

Many people have told me that Emma reminds them of me. Good? Bad? I imagine she got a combination of my strengths and areas in need of improvement. I think her personality is much like mine in that she is energetic and social - which again has it's goods and bads. She's a bit more spirited or strong-willed than I was as a child, but I like this. I allowed far too many friends walk all over me as a kid, and I hope she can learn to assert herself earlier than I did. She also loves creative play as I did. I used to play imaginary world with my markers and magnets. They were "people" who lived in town and they interacted with one another. Emma loves imaginary play as well. One of her favorite things to do is to go to the front door and pretend she the next door neighbor, Elia. (This is also a fictional character - my next door neighbor is named Shelley and has only come to my front door once.)

Another area I see in Emma is compassion. I like to believe that this is a strength of mine as well. She's always been very concerned about others when they are sick or upset. I remember several times when she brought friends tissues when they were crying because they were hurt or having a meltdown. Perhaps she'll pursue a helping profession as I did or at least a caring friend to others.

One of my favorite memories of Emma's compassion happened last fall when I was pregnant with Andrew. She would have been 2 1/2. Here's an excerpt from my journal:

November 14, 2005
I had a rough day today... just pregnancy hormones and anxiety, exhaustion from the weekend, etc. This afternoon Cole did something to frustrate me so I sat down in the living room with Emma and tears started coming to my eyes. When she realized this, she walked up to me, got real close to my face and said, "Talk to me. What's the matter? Tell me what's wrong." (As she's saying all this, I'm kind of in shock by the mature manner she is relating to me and trying to figure out how to answer her all at once.) So I tell her that I'm sad. "Why?" she asks. "I'm just having a bad afternoon," as I continue to cry - mostly because my 2 1/2 year old is showing such compassion. "Wait a second," she tells me, "Let me get something for you." Off she disappears to the bathroom for a tissue. She wipes my face and the tears off my shirt. "It's okay, Mommy."

This evening we will get together with some friends who were in a small group with us for several years. Among them will be our friend, Mary Jane. She is the wife of our wonderful friend, Aaron, who died a couple of weeks ago. As we were driving today, Emma asks me out of the blue, "Mommy, will Mary Jane tell us how she is feeling tonight?"

Now is that a social worker in the making or what?!