I was a wild child who grew up to be a closet rebel woman. I'm a mom, a wife, and the marketing director for a local charity. My halo is intact these days. But the wild abandon of my younger years still runs through my veins. I find that, in motherhood, my closet rebellion lives on. In the raw miniature woman who is my daughter, I feel a great deal of empathy and admiration for her seemingly untameable spirit. I wouldn't want to "break" her if I could.

Don't get me wrong. If my precious baby ends up doing half the stuff I did throughout adolescence and young adulthood, I will probably drop dead of a heart attack before I am fifty. But I do so love her wild spirit, her sense of adventure, and her contentment with marching to the beat of her own drummer. I hope she never loses any of those qualities.

The following thoughts have occurred to me as my daughter grows. I think I would have them tattooed on my forehead if I could:

1.) Don't accost me in the grocery store about my two-year-old's pacifier use. I sucked my thumb until my junior year of college and I speak just fine, thank you. In fact, I can give a presentation to a room of fifty people without breaking a sweat. I didn't end up with some strange oral fixation either.

2.) Don't cluck your tongue in disapproval when my little beauty shimmies out of her clothes and runs around naked. If I had a perfect body and absolutely no idea what "naked" meant, I wouldn't wear clothes either.

3.) Don't lecture me on colds when you see us dancing like heathens in the rain. I had forgotten how much fun that is until my daughter reminded me. I hope she never forgets.

4.) Don't look at us like we are crazy when you see us car-dancing to Creedence Clearwater Revival, Nelly, or Neil Diamond while we're riding down the road. She's not too young to develop a broad appreciation for different types of music. And why should I have to listen to Barney all the time?

5.) Don't quiz my daughter on her ABC's, colors or numbers. She knows them, but she is not a dog and does not perform on command. If someone marched up to me and demanded I list all fifty states, the first thought that would come to my mind would be, "Up yours!"

6.) Don't pointedly stare at us during a diaper change and ask, "How is the potty training going?" One day you may be the one wearing diapers and I'm sure you would not like it if I asked you the same question.

7.) Don't sigh in exasperation and roll your eyes when I make references to my child sleeping with me. Sleep is one of the essentials to a healthy life and I'll get it anyway I can take it. Besides, there's nothing sweeter than falling asleep with my nose buried in a head full of Johnson's baby shampoo-scented hair.

8.) Don't impose your ideal of discipline on my child, or try to break her of any habits you find unseemly, while you spend an hour with us here or there. You aren't responsible for her getting into college or staying out of prison. Enjoy her or leave her alone. If you pick at her, neither of us will like you.

9) Don't suggest that I smack my little one's rear when she throws a temper tantrum. I'm 31-years-old and I still throw them. If someone smacked me for it, I would smack them back.

10.) Don't assume that I've lost I.Q. points, interest in trends, or the taste for an occasional margarita just because I'm now a mother. Beneath the pureéd carrots on my shirt, the Dora the Explorer stickers on my car window, the dark shadows under my eyes, and the hair desperately in need of a good styling, the heart of a full-fledged woman -- and former wild child -- still beats.

Stephanie J. Graham is mother of one audacious, five-year-old diva.