We all have a conscience. Wait…let me retract that. According to Derek Morgan and the other members of the FBI Behavioral Analysts Unit from Criminal Minds, psychopaths lack a conscience. So most of us have a conscience that yells at us when we veer towards the wrong decisions and the one that encourages us towards the right one.

My conscience has never taken the form of an angel or devil on my shoulder. Growing up, my trusted companion has been an inner voice that, oddly enough, sounds a lot like me.God must have known that I needed a more tangible conscience than an inner voice, and it didn’t come as a cricket or other humble creature. It came in the form of a 7 lb, 10 oz package of human emotion who, at age five, looks and behaves so much like me that it’s uncanny. I don’t know even know where Lexi found the jacket she’s wearing in this picture, but I assure you, it was not intentional on my part to dress my child as a mini-me.

I felt pretty confident about my conflict resolution and negation skills until she came along. I wasn’t prone to wild bursts of anger and outrage in the midst of conflict because my trusty conscience would say, “Yelling right now would be wrong. Patience is a better route.” That worked more times than not, and I got to walk away with a sense of accomplishment that I had not resorted to name-calling or personal attacks on the other individual.

But…this little version of me mirrors all of my very best and very worst behaviors. Let’s start with the good stuff because that cheers me up and reminds me that I do role model good stuff. She might be small, but her compassion and empathy for those in need is mighty. She enjoys serving others. Score one more mom. (Yes, she has an amazing father who models the good stuff, too, but I already told you in the blog description that I need to develop more humility.) She appreciates proper grammar as evidenced by her hesitation to even use contractions since it seems like taking a short cut. She is a voracious reader who leans towards stories with a moral, such as The 7 Habits of Happy Kids. (And, no, it’s not a coincidence that I facilitate the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.) So, yea for me, right?

Lexi also mirrors behaviors that I desperately seek to eliminate and pray that no one sees for the shame they cause me, such as my attitude problem. This comes out in the form of heavy sarcasm that I usually think is funny but others don’t. Just yesterday, her sarcasm was directed at my husband, and I felt intense shame that she did it so naturally. I’ve taught her that littering is not a good habit. Along with that lesson, I also passed on my judgmental nature. I know this because we watched someone litter in the parking lot of the grocery store, and Lexi responded by saying, “That’s just horrible that he littered. Doesn’t he know that makes him a bad person, and bad people don’t get into heaven?” I felt ashamed that I had communicated that message to her. And her most recent spot on imitation of me? Instead of thanking people when they compliment her, she silently says, “I know.”

Yes, I do realize that small children are narcissistic, but I’m not helping. I don’t ever sit and imagine what advice I would give to my five-year-old self. Lexi is a living embodiment of my five-year old self, and I love her too much to do nothing and say nothing. It’s my responsibility to model the way and interrupt her not-so-humble rumblings now before it stops being cute and is downright annoying. So thank you, God, for my Jiminy Cricket. I’ll do my best to become a real girl by ignoring the inner voice that leads me astray and, instead, makes wise decisions.