My ex-husband and I could not come to an agreement about what to name our youngest child until she was a day old. I know there are many people who do this. They decide to wait and see what the child looks like, or what comes to mind in the moment. But this is not me. I am a planner. My oldest child was named years before her arrival, as were both of my sons. But this time was different. He wanted Holly, while I wanted Georgia. We finally agreed on Faith. The point is, there was a lot of thought and a lot of effort put into finding just the right name for our baby.

Jump ahead three years, and my precious little Faith insists on being called Sugar Bear. It began when Grandma called her that. Afterwards, anyone who called her Sweetie or Honey or Sissy was immediately corrected. "I'm Sugar Bear!" she would say in an irresistible sing-song voice. She still answered to Faith, though, so I laughed with everyone else, smiling when someone turned to me and said, "She's so cute!" I thought the nickname was confined to family and very close friends. Last week, however, I overheard a little boy from her Sunday School class calling her Sugar Bear. My Faithy has redefined who she is.

I have taken this lesson to heart. I had been defined for so long as the wife of my ex-husband. He had defined me as someone who was unintelligent, selfish, and worthless. I do not have to allow that to be me - or even who I am perceived to be. I can be strong, compassionate, and intelligent. I don't have to be mousy, I can be confident. I am not worthless or incompetent. I am a wonderful mother, daughter, sister and friend.

Last week my mom was over, and as she and I talked, Faith casually came up to us and announced, "Thomas cut mine hair." It took a moment for me to process, but I began to realize that my daughter's hair, which had come to the middle of her back in darling blonde curls, was now chin length. Faith was so pleased with her uneven bob, and Thomas had only done his sister's bidding, spoiled as she is by her big brother.

Sometimes life hands us a situation we don't like. Sometimes we get lemons. I loved my baby's curls. They were so cute in pigtails or braids! But the bob is growing on me. And even though Thomas did something very wrong, he did it because he loved his sister. The next day I took Faith for her first real haircut, and my older daughter insisted on getting hers cut, too, so Faith wouldn't feel like the odd duck. My kids love each other. That's my lemonade.

At three years old, Faith is a sponge. She soaks in everything from the alphabet and numbers, to catch phrases. Her favorite thing to say right now is, "Chopped liver, hello..." (Again in her adorable sing-song voice.) Packed in each and every day are hundreds of teachable moments. She can be taught to be respectful of others, to share, or to say please and thank you. She can be taught to use the toilet, to pick up her crayons, or to write her name. Every day offers the chance to learn and to grow.

Every day offers the same to me, as well. I can learn anything from the breast stroke to algebra, if I just take the time to do it. I can learn how to use Photoshop or I can familiarize myself with my congressman and his voting record. I can do it on my own, using books and the internet, or I can go back to school. The opportunities are endless.

Even Faith has problems. She can't find one of her Elmo slippers, or she's being made to force down oatmeal, for instance. But five minutes later, she's fine. She's playing with the dog, or with one of her babies. Very often she can be heard singing a song she's made up about the slipper or the oatmeal. She laughs, she dances, she sings only minutes after her life was so difficult.

I haven't yet come to the place that I can sing only minutes after talking to my ex on the phone, but I can most definitely laugh a few minutes after Faith spills her milk at dinner or sing when I've just opened the gas bill. Laughter doesn't always follow happiness. Sometimes happiness follows laughter. Sugar Bear has taught me well.