Turning into My Mother

I have realized that I am turning into my mother.

My thin, curly hair stands up all over the place--since I started using the henna it's even red like hers. I have blue eyes and stretch marks and smile lines. My breasts are big, my hands are small, and I have insanely high arches in my feet.
I have had more pregnancies than I have children to show for them. I have nearly died in miscarrying.
I sew. I knit. I quilt. I garden. I can. I cook. I write. I design. I create. I teach.
I always have a kid on my hip and I feel like I never quite catch up with the dishes or the housework. I like to cook, but I am utterly burned out on deciding what to make for dinner. My favorite meal is one that someone else cooks for me. I am tired of washing diapers.
I do not accept the status quo--I am the change I want to see in the world. I do not take anyone's advice as fact, no matter what degrees they have; but I read and research and learn all I can and form my own, educated, opinions. I do not hesitate to tell others what I learn.
I respect the Earth. I respect people. I wish we would all learn to get along a little better.
I am a woman of faith. I pray for my children. I support my husband and his dreams--both the realistic and the not-so-realistic. I can stretch a dime further than some people can stretch a dollar. I have little in worldly wealth, but much in heavenly treasure.

I have realized that I am turning into my mother.

Hallelujah!