Each of my daughters has been exactly who she was since I felt her first flutter in my belly. One responded to music, one loved it when I was driving, the other seemed to throw “Go mom” high fives whenever I swore. Today they are very bit as much distinctly who they are as ever. Watching The Voice elimination shows brings all their stuff to the fore in stark contrast—elation, horror, ‘it is what it is’. I do what I can to quell their nerves, calm their agitated hearts, and, honestly, devour their wholly, unapologetic “this is who I am-ness”. I envy their ability to be undiluted versions of themselves, but that’s for another day. Today I wanted to share a post…