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A while back my mother tasked my sister (above left) and I (above right) to clean out our old closets. We found two interesting things. The first was an “About Me” essay written by my sister when she was twelve. In it she said she didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up but she knew she wanted a dog. She also said she liked playing with little kids and helping people in need. Fast forward twenty years and my sister is now a school psychologist working with special needs kids who has a weirdly (in my book) close relationship with her dog.

The other thing we found was a postcard I had sent to my sister from sleepaway camp when I was ten. It read:

Dear Sis,

Today I made you something in art. Please tell mommy to send candy.

Love,
Ilana

P.S. I beat my high score on Donkey Kong Jr.

Somehow this also describes me to a tee. I went on to become a creative director with an extremely active sweet tooth, a highly competitive streak and an addiction to online scrabble.

My mother once told me to pay attention to your baby because she will be the exact same person for the rest of her life. Judging from the two examples above, I would say she is right. So what do I know about my baby girl?

She is fearless. The only time I’ve ever seen Mazzy scared is when we go through long tunnels in the car. Which is kind of understandable considering she’s doing it backwards at 55mph. Otherwise, she will dive head first off a bed, climb over obstacles like they aren’t really there, and reach for the heaviest, highest, most imposing objects she can find. If she stumbles, bumps her head, or loses her balance, she’ll just take a moment, readjust and get right back to it more determined than ever.

She is bossy. Pointing is Mazzy’s latest obsession. It started with a casual toss of the hand but it has developed into a ridiculously quick flick of the wrist with a locked elbow and an outstretched finger clearly indicating that she doesn’t want the plastic green spoon, she wants the shiny silver one. And once she makes it clear what she wants, it becomes much harder to do anything but meet her demands. When she wakes up early in the morning and I try to soothe her back to sleep, she will use that super specific finger to point straight out of the room. Morning after morning, I am forced to follow her agenda, even though it’s exactly the opposite of what I want to do.

She is a social maven.  Mazzy treats New York City like its a small town and she’s got more clout than Bloomberg, Jeter, and Wintour combined. She says hi to everyone we pass on the street and if they don’t return her greeting, that will only make her say it louder. When you take her to a party, a playgroup, or a dinner out with friends, Mazzy holds court. She smiles at everyone’s jokes, flirts with the boys and lets perfect strangers hold her without a fuss. She’s got a George Clooney glint in her eye and more charm than Hugh Grant circa 1995. And somehow she always commands the full attention of everyone in the room even though nothing she says ever makes any sense.

So, if all this is true to form, Mazzy is destined to be a risk taker who can charm the pants off pretty much anyone despite her shitty vocabulary. She’ll throw legendary dinner parties where she tells everyone exactly what they are going to eat and with whom. And then she’ll hold them captive while she does all the talking.

In short—

Mazzy’s gonna be a politician.

Pray for me.