Elle turned three last month. The only person she was really interested in having at her unicorn party was this sweet little boy from church, Cade. Taryn, OJ, baby Layla and "grandma" Caroline (thank you for the pictures!!!) came from Orange County, and we all ate an Elle-inspired lunch: Homemade gouda mac-n-cheese, star-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fruit salad, and white chocolate-dipped pretzels. The cupcakes were funfetti with marshmallow buttercream frosting, tiny star shaped sprinkles, and toppers from the Land of Nod.
Who is this little human God trusted me to raise? She is everything I am not- silly, spunky, hilarious, brave, confident----and just plain good. Not too long ago, I had the idea that I was going to impart all of this goodness onto my children, that it was my calling in life to direct their every little step...but what I've found, with the help of my Ellie, is that raising children actually changes you so much more than it ever changes them. They are who they are, and you change like crazy. When I'm moody, Elle makes me laugh. When I'm impatient, Elle makes me take a deep breath and calm down. When I'm running late, Elle stops me every. single. time. for a hug and a kiss. "MOM! Don't forget HUGS AND KISSES!" When I'm frustrated, she is always the first to apologize, saying, "Sorry, Mom. Sorry you're mad at me, Mom."
Elle is brilliant and articulate. I blame it on her obsession from birth with reading books. She is constantly surprising me with her vocabulary, saying things like, "Mom, what was that strange smell?" And, "Mom, I love her! She's gorgeous!"
I can't talk about my child with mentioning the h word...horse. Let me share what she said in her prayer last night, so that I can always remember it.
"Dear Father,
Thanks for the day. Thanks for the horses. Thanks for Bella and Chief (the horses she rides in her lessons). Thanks for Santana (her riding instructor). Thanks for Nana and Mom and Dad. Thanks for the blessings.
Jesus Christ,
Amen"
Even though she turned three, she'll never admit it. "I'm not three, Mom. I'm two. I don't want to be three, I want to be two. I'm just two. I'm tiny." She shakes her head at me, laughing, and holds up the number two on her fingers. "See?"
Yes, Ellie. I see.
Who is this little human God trusted me to raise? She is everything I am not- silly, spunky, hilarious, brave, confident----and just plain good. Not too long ago, I had the idea that I was going to impart all of this goodness onto my children, that it was my calling in life to direct their every little step...but what I've found, with the help of my Ellie, is that raising children actually changes you so much more than it ever changes them. They are who they are, and you change like crazy. When I'm moody, Elle makes me laugh. When I'm impatient, Elle makes me take a deep breath and calm down. When I'm running late, Elle stops me every. single. time. for a hug and a kiss. "MOM! Don't forget HUGS AND KISSES!" When I'm frustrated, she is always the first to apologize, saying, "Sorry, Mom. Sorry you're mad at me, Mom."
Elle is brilliant and articulate. I blame it on her obsession from birth with reading books. She is constantly surprising me with her vocabulary, saying things like, "Mom, what was that strange smell?" And, "Mom, I love her! She's gorgeous!"
I can't talk about my child with mentioning the h word...horse. Let me share what she said in her prayer last night, so that I can always remember it.
This is Chief. |
"Dear Father,
Thanks for the day. Thanks for the horses. Thanks for Bella and Chief (the horses she rides in her lessons). Thanks for Santana (her riding instructor). Thanks for Nana and Mom and Dad. Thanks for the blessings.
Jesus Christ,
Amen"
I asked her the other day what she wants for Christmas. She wants a real horse. A black one, to be precise.
The conversation went like this:
Mom: "Honey, what do you want for Christmas? Do you want some toys? Or a new doll? New stories?"
Elle: "No. I just want a real horse. A black one. That's it. Okay, Mom?"
For her birthday, Elle got new riding boots with pretty pink trim, a unicorn to ride, toy horses, a stable, horse books and a horse necklace, and birthday cards covered in horses. She played with them until the sun went down, and then she tucked them all in bed under her covers.
Even though she turned three, she'll never admit it. "I'm not three, Mom. I'm two. I don't want to be three, I want to be two. I'm just two. I'm tiny." She shakes her head at me, laughing, and holds up the number two on her fingers. "See?"
Yes, Ellie. I see.