She's amazing, my little girl. I drop her at school in the morning and see her everywhere, in everything, during the day. I kiss her goodnight, and my dreams, they are filled with her giggles. Even in the moments when I'm screaming inside to be left alone so I can just write, read, think or even shower, I still ache to stay with her and touch the curve of her cheek. I yearn to smell her yeasty, (sometimes funky) kid smell. And every moment of every day I try to be the best woman I know how to be so she grows up doing the same. Every. single. moment.

I know I've been writing about politics a lot lately. That wasn't my intent when I started to blog, but first with the roller coaster of a primary and now with this amazing nomination today, I've discovered all of my questions about living and raising my wee one authentically are interlaced with what is happening in our political landscape right now. So I can't help but think...and ponder...and comment over and over and over.

And sometimes there are tears. Who would've thought the Democratic National Convention would be to blame? But Monday night when Michelle Obama spoke and again last night during Hillary's speech, tears welled up in my eyes as a blinding point hit home: we are all doing this for our little girls. And as I re-read the text of both speeches, I thought of my little one.

Michelle said this,

"I stand here today at the crosscurrents of that history -- knowing that my piece of the American dream is a blessing hard won by those who came before me. All of them driven by the same conviction that drove my dad to get up an hour early each day to painstakingly dress himself for work. The same conviction that drives the men and women I've met all across this country:

People who work the day shift, kiss their kids goodnight, and head out for the night shift -- without disappointment, without regret -- that goodnight kiss a reminder of everything they're working for."

And I admit it, I cried as I thought about what drives me to get up in the morning and leave my daughter in the care of another woman for much of the day. It's the conviction. The dreams I have for her - the hope I have that what I'm doing every day will pave the road for her, whether it's with a college education she doesn't have to pay for by working full-time while trying to get her degree or a doctor she can return to again and again without fearing she will be turned away for being uninsured. I get up and work for my little girl.

Hillary said this:

"I ran for President...To fight for an America defined by deep and meaningful equality - from civil rights to labor rights, from women's rights to gay rights, from ending discrimination to promoting unionization to providing help for the most important job there is: caring for our families. To help every child live up to his or her God-given potential."

And again, the tears showed up. Because again, it's all for our little girls. Civil rights, labor rights, women's rights, gay rights - they are all human rights. And we need our children to grow up in a world where human rights are assured. Protected.

And then, Hillary asked this:

"Were you in this campaign just for me? Or were you in it for that young Marine and others like him? Were you in it for that mom struggling with cancer while raising her kids? Were you in it for that boy and his mom surviving on the minimum wage? Were you in it for all the people in this country who feel invisible?"

And I made this pledge to myself:

Our daughters will not be invisible.

They must not struggle by being paid less for the same work.

They shall not be disrespected with profanity for being strong, smart and independent.

They should not be ill and unable to afford their medication.

They cannot work without having the protection of honest and safe childcare for their children.

They will not be invisible.

That is why I am voting for Barack Obama for President. He is not perfect, I know. His campaign is not flawless. To be honest, I'd rather he were a bit more left of center, a little (or lot) more radical. But he is in this for his little girls - for our little girls. John McCain is not. Just look at his voting record. "No way, no how" will our little girls will be healthier, safer, or stronger in eight years if John McCain wins.

For me, my little girl is the issue. Your little girl is the issue. And you, if you are someone's little girl, you are the issue, too.

And a Democrat in the White House is a start. A good one.

Cross-posted at Notions of Identity