The tiny version of me, without the childhood trauma.

We're on the tram at the airport. Maddie hops on and grabs the pole in the middle. Then tells Max to move to the middle. No, not there. Stand here Max. She needs to be sure he's in a good, safe spot. "Thank you Mini Mom," I say.

It's 6am, we're scheduled for breakfast at 9am. Maddie calls out from the other room, "I think we should really get up now so we're not late." I tell her I have my alarm set, we'll have plenty of time if we get up at 8am. Go back to sleep I'm taking care of you.

We're walking around Georgetown, waiting for our car to arrive to take us home. I have the GPS on my phone set up so we don't get lost. Maddie is very worried with every block we take. I tell her I know exactly where we are. She acts shocked when the hotel is exactly where I said it would be.

I suggest we all try going to the bathroom before the plane starts loading. Max says he doesn't need to go, Maddie tells him he really should try. "I'll hold your backpack for you."

Our seat assignments are not together. There's a stranger sitting between Maddie and Max and I'm a few rows up in the window seat. I assure Maddie the stranger will switch seats with me, don't worry. But ha, of course she worries. We talk to the attendant at the desk about our seats, asking if we can switch. She calls the name of the man sitting between the kids and we wait for him. After about 5 minutes she says, "You know what? If he's not happy switching seats, he's probably a pedophile so let's just go ahead and make the switch." Maddie says, as we walk away, "What's a pedophile?"

We're sitting on the floor together eating candy and waiting for our turn to board the plane. Maddie and I are laughing about her worries. She says, 'I think I have a disease of worrying."

I tell her about the medicine I take every day to help me with my worrying. How I worried a lot as a kid too. I worried about my sister, I worried about something bad happening if I wasn't at home to keep it from happening. I worried about school.

She says, "Wow, you worried a lot. I don't worry that much. But I do worry a lot. Maybe I should take that medicine."

I tell her that her body and her brain is changing all the time, that who she is today isn't who she's always going to be. I remind her how going into the school every day used to be too hard for her, and now she never has a problem. She says how she was so worried about riding the bus but she just kept telling herself it would be okay. And it was.

Maybe some day you'll decide with a doctor that taking some medicine will help your brain work differently but for now she's doing great.

She says, "Yeah, and I'm not even afraid to talk on the phone.....like some people."