Today is one of those extra cup of coffee kind of days. We all have these at least once a week, right? In fact, if I could I'd spend all day at this coffee shop. The reason for the extra caffeine today? A 12:30 a.m. wake-up call from my projectile vomiting 3 year old. This middle of the night experience has me particularly upset. It's not the laundry or the carpet cleaning that has me bothered. After being a mom for 10 years, I know this comes with the territory. Neither am I bothered by the fact that I had to leave her this morning to come to the office. She was feeling much better, and I knew she'd be fine in the experienced hands of her nana. No, what has me bothered today is that she did not yell "Mommy" in the middle of the night. She didn't even yell "Daddy". Who did she want when she wasn't feeling well? She yelled for "Sissy" (who, by the way, shut her bedroom door wanting nothing to do with a little girl with an uneasy stomach). We've jokingly referred to the 3 year old as the "Tag-A-Long". She is always no fewer than two steps behind her 10 year old sister. Most of the time this seems to work to my advantage. They played happily together in the backyard over the weekend while I worked on the computer. Sissy can pour a bowl of cereal or make a PB&J. But, shouldn't some things be reserved for Mommy, like that first thought of who you want by your side when you're sick? Then the guilt sets in. Do I rely on Sissy too much so I can take care of other matters? When my 10 year old was little, I kept my work hours to an absolute minimum. Now, I have a job managing a busy clinic and with it comes late hours and extra responsbility. Is my second daughter going to be less attached to me than my first as a result? As moms, especially working moms, guilt becomes part of our nature. We are always thinking "what if?". The truth of the matter is that whether I choose to work or stay home, I know she will always look up to her big sister. I'm comforted by the fact that anytime she wanders through the house with a book in hand, it's me she's looking for. Reading is our special time together. I also remind myself that she's forging a lifelong relationship with her older sister, one that she will always be able to rely on, even after my husband and I are gone. And I couldn't ask for a better role model than my 10 year old. She's mature, smart, and compassionate. After all, I raised her.