Looking back on my childhood, I distinctly remember sneaking into my mother’s closet and falling in love with a pair of her shoes. They were the quintessential 1980’s red pump. They weren’t exceptionally high. The toe the perfect combination of round and point. They were bright and bold; grown-up and classically chic. And they were hers. They were everything in my five-year-old eyes. Just like she was.

And I loved to wear them and pretend that they were mine; that I was like her.

Nowadays, I find my own little sticky fingered girl spending a whole lot of time in my drawers and closet. If I’m getting ready, you can be sure she’s by my side- draping herself in all that sparkles, applying anything shiny and pink, wearing my t-shirts as dresses and swimming in my shoes.

I love seeing how these simple, every day things of mine now bring my own girl so much joy; and it’s a daily reminder of how much these littles of ours look up to their mamas, just like we looked up to ours.

They’re watching us, studying our ways- how we dress and apply our lip gloss; how we speak to each other and to ourselves; what we value and who we choose to be.

And I can already see glimpses of us in them- in these mini versions of ourselves- as they become their own people.

And, like so many parts of motherhood, it pushes me to be a better version of myself- for her, for our family; and it’s a big, beautiful responsibility.

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photos by Julia Dags