Lately, it feels like we've been raising Ella for ten years. Some days I fall into bed and can't remember what day of the week it is because they're all bleeding together. Some days I just get so tired of fighting the same fights, dealing with the same tantrums, and playing the same games. Other days, when a new little piece of personality pops through to encourage me, I want to freeze time and keep her this age forever. Isn't that kind of parenting in a nutshell?
As previously discussed, it's been a rough couple of weeks. My face has aged at least 40 years. And I begrudgingly agreed to take Ella to Stonegate's "Night at the Ballpark." We skipped last year because it was her first birthday, but I had no viable excuses this year. I'm just being real with ya. I love my husband and I love being a family, but it's hard to get everybody out at once for extended amounts of time. We don't do much of it... But I guess I was feeling adventurous and I'm so glad we ventured out. My little girl grabbed ahold of my heart strings and wrapped me right around her sticky little fingers all over again. Anybody that knows Ella knows that she's got a little bit of social anxiety. She's not into strangers and she doesn't do well with new environments. I don't know what happened tonight, but Ella sprung out of her shell. She had a sparkle in her eyes that took my breath away. She was fearless. I offered to let her play in the bounce house and she went crazy. She laughed and giggled and shrieked; it was so great for my soul. We have a swingset in our backyard that she loves, but homegirl refuses to go down the slide. So when she caught sight of the playground (on the other side of the park,) I thought "This is going to be disastrous." The slide was pretty tall. Like, I'm not being a proud mom. I was anxious when I saw her climbing the "rock wall" to get to it. She got up to the top of the slide and as my heart rate accelerated awaiting the pending scream, Ella looked down at me, grinned, and said "Goooo!" And down she went. A few giggles at my celebrations, then back up she went. Over and over and over. It wasn't all peaches and cream, of course. She had to learn about waiting her turn. There was a massive tantrum when it was time to leave the playground. But I didn't mind. It was a brief glitch in a wonderful evening. My sweet sheltered baby had never seen a snow cone before, and the gasp of astonishment and awe was really all I needed to hear to be convinced to let her try one. She ruined her romper and she looked like she murdered a smurf, but there was something endearing about it. Maybe it was one of those faces I'll look back and miss on a day that she's being too grown up for my liking. Who knows. We saw a look of panic melt quickly into a look of intrigue and glee when the fireworks started, though we only stayed ten minutes or so before she finally succumbed to the exhaustion that was creeping in. She sang random syllables as we drove home, and had an overly dramatic reaction to the "woah noon!" Though I have to agree, the moon was pretty hard to miss tonight.
All that to say, there's nothing baby left about her besides her diaper. I've always laughed at the reference, but that girl really is a wild stallion. She's so free, and her hair bounces in rhythm with each step she takes at over a hundred miles an hour. She's unpredictable, and you can easily push the wrong button and send her into a manic rage. Her soul is so colorful. She's a hundred different colors in one. And I love that about her. I love so many little things that I forget to stop and soak them in during the day to day routines. I was so proud of her fearlessness tonight. I want to dive in and pull that out of her as often as I can. Will it get her into trouble sometimes? I hope so. But I also hope that someday when she's raising her own baby, she's fearless with her as well. I try so hard to let Ella learn her own lessons and fight her own battles, though I quietly observe and encourage from the background. It makes me feel like we are succeeding in raising her to be strong when I see the anxiousness melt away to confidence in situations like tonight. It's what keeps me committed to raising a daughter that is not only gentle and gracious, but bold and courageous.
Anyway. My Ella is two. My baby bright light is continuing to blaze through the path of parenting, and we're just holding on to the ride. I have to be honest and say that I'm so relieved to see her thriving. When I found out I was pregnant with Adam, besides mourning my lack of sleep, I was also fearful that I was robbing her of a childhood she deserved. I knew the time and effort he was going to require, and I knew how exhausting 9 months of pregnancy was going to be. I was afraid she would be shushed and pushed aside too often in the light of a shiny new baby, and I was sad for her hurt feelings. I'm so happy that Adam was born when she was little. Already, in the short four months that he's been with us, I see the tiny little Mama that we're raising. If I ever tried to convince her that Adam was my baby and not hers, I would be shunned for life. She's so kind, gentle, and affectionate with him. When he's mad and crying, she comes and gets me, as if she's the only one that noticed he was crying. She kisses his baby face to the point that it's frustrating for all parties involved. I look at her with him and realize that she's just doing what she knows. She sees how we treat her, and she treats Adam that way. And that's just more affirmation for us that we're on the right track. And I never have to worry about her feeling neglected, because she makes sure to let us know when we're not paying enough attention. She's the funniest little person I know.
I didn't actually plan to write a birthday blog today, but I was so proud of my baby that I had to stop and brag on her for a second. As always, I'm so thankful that God deemed me fit to raise this little girl. With all of my frustrations and short fuses and cries that I'm in over my head, He comes down to meet me and says "You're enough." And we get through the day. I look at how beautiful she is, and I'm amazed that she came out of me. That she's a combination of the love that her Daddy and I share. And I feel so much pressure to make her see how completely lovely she is, while combatting my own insecurities. The Lord has been so good to make me aware of her watching me while I look at myself in the mirror. And we both take turns telling each other how pretty we are. Hopefully this doesn't come back and bite me in the rear end when I have a two year old asking everyone to tell her how beautiful she is... but I would prefer to fight that battle than the other.
Basically, it's been a wonderful two years. I am so tired. And clinging so desperately to Jesus, but I'm so thankful that Ella keeps me on my knees. She keeps me close to Jesus because I want so desperately for her to see Him in her Mama. May she find him young and hold him close to her for all of her days. But today, may she have the happiest birthday that she probably won't remember.
Here's to you, sweet turtle.
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