"She's got my nose, she's got her mama's eyes..."

Shortly after Ayla was born, people began making a point of telling me, "Oh, she looks just like Brandon."  

(She didn't.  She actually looked Asian the day she was born.)

"Oh, she has Brandon's _____ (nose, smile, chin, eyebrows, earlobes)!"

I have to admit, this annoyed the crap out of me.  It still does sometimes, actually.  I usually just agree and say, "Hey, I was there, too!" or "At least she has my stunning personality."

I gave birth to a 8 lb. 10 oz. baby girl.  I am a 5 foot tall woman.  I felt like I deserved a little credit.  It almost felt to me like I spent 9 months cooking my little sweet pea, then I got to have my body forever changed giving birth to her.  My tailbone still hurts, for Pete's sake.

Of course, my family and some friends say they see the resemblance between her and I.  When I look at baby photos from my siblings and I, I see us in her.  When I look at Brandon's baby pictures, I see him as well.


Does it really matter who she looks like?  Are her looks the only thing that matter about her?  I know that people didn't intend for me to take it the wrong way, but when I hear something ad nauseum, I just want to tell people, "Shut up!"


The funny thing is, she is this wonderful little combination of B & I, both personality and physical traits.  She gets good and bad from both of us.  But at the end of the day, she is her own little person with somethingness about her that is uniquely her.


I will take credit for her chin and the red tint to her hair.  
I will give credit to Brandon for her adorable nose (which I prayed she'd get from him) and her beautiful brown eyes.


She can blame me for her fiery temper and her father for his weird toddler habits, such as spitting.


We can share the credit for her love of learning and the blame for her announcing when she farts.


And its okay if you tell me she looks like Brandon, after all I didn't pick him for his suave moves and debonair ways.