Littelest Lady

My Littlest Lady,

You are summersaulting in my stomach right now. I feel you wiggle when I'm waking up, watch my belly make different shapes while reading books with your big brother and sisters, feel your little taps while brushing my teeth. And you're always up for keeping me company when I can't sleep in the middle of the night.

It feels like lifetimes ago you became a part of me. A few days after New Year's, I wanted a horchata so badly that your Papa went out in a raging thunderstorm to bring one home for me. After three bitter sips, I knew. I wasn't alone. You were beginning to grow ... and you did not like horchatas. You made my heart race. You were too good to be true. And for days and days I tried talking myself out of our secret. But then my body began to feel like it was filled with lead. Walking from one room to the next felt like running underwater. Sean made a fire one evening, and I laid on pillows on the ground. I couldn't move I was so exhausted. And as I watched the flames crackle, and felt the heat on my face, and experienced the familiar fatigue settle into my frame, I knew that you were beginning to grow. I decided that the next morning I would find out for sure. A very pale pink line told me what I already knew. I kept you hidden for a month.

In February, your dad sat quietly on the tub while I finished showering, holding a doctor's letter confirming our first appointment at the end of March. As I stepped into the bathroom, he quietly asked me about you. Then he scooped me into his arms and didn't let me go for a long time.

Time stood still during our first few months together. The world outside and inside our home transformed. Outside was a virus and food shortages, gloves and masks and hand sanitizer, brutality and murders and fire, rallies and protests and awakenings. Inside was cereal for dinner, lots of books and cartoons, swapping one pair of pajamas for another, days slowed down and simplified. You grew fingers and toes, and I laid down and tried to keep breathing. You grew ears and eyelashes, and I melted into the sofa. Your strong heart beat wildly, and I celebrated brushing my teeth and washing my hair.

We've been growing together for 30 weeks. I'm exhausted. I'm overwhelmed. I'm terrified. I'm also so in love with you. I'm so relieved that you're coming to our family. Finally. I feel like I've been waiting so long for you. I wonder if you do too? And I'm grateful. So grateful. I feel certain you are ours, and we are yours, and that the best if yet to come.

Carrying you around with me has made me feel less alone. Feeling your eager spirit has filled me with wonder. I've felt waves of comfort and joy as I've witnessed our family come together to dream about you. Every day we talk about how wonderfully different life will feel when you join us earth side. You have already brought such a spirit of excitement and surprise and love into our home. You are a miracle, my little one. You are a reminder that our Heavenly Father knows best. You are an invitation to trust in His love and His timing. You have been a precious reminder that our family is in His perfect hands.

You are my cold milk and warm chocolate chip cookie baby. My pickles with everything baby. We want spicy salsa and spicy cheese and savory things topped with fire roasted sliced jalapinos. You and I want to drink everything for every meal all day long: watermelon slush and bitter green juice for breakfast, frosty pina coladas, icy vanilla rootbeers, creamy cups of cocoa and loose leaf teas before bed. We want all the drinks... except water. Water is super gross... unless it comes with a splash of lemonade and two handfuls of ice. 

We call you Baby Sister and our Littlest Lady. That might never change. The five of us list names in earnest for a solid five minutes, but then inevitably a Helga or Broomhelda get's thrown into the mix, and suddenly we're laughing about the Broccoli Flobstopper Braniff you'll grow up to be. What is your name, littlest lady? Can you tell us? 

I love you so, 

Mom

Dear Eleanor

Ellie Noellie,

The moment your diaper is off, you shake your little bum and sing, I am nated. I am naaaateeed! My favorite thing in the world is to see you streaking by, like a little naked blur. Big hair, tiny bum, long legs running in great big galloping strides. You run like the wind girl, and you love to be nated. Your long curls stretch down your back when you're in the bath, and your smile grows even wider when I talk about your mermaid hair. Flopping from your belly to your back, gently dipping the back of your head in the water and feeling your hair swirl around, inviting all of the plastic sea creatures under the bubbles to bath time tea parties keeps you in the tub until the water turns cold. Eleanor you are chatty, you are so silly, so nurturing, so caring and perceptive. You are independent and adventurous. You sing songs to yourself while you play. You adore any and every creature on this earth, especially the cows in our backyard (in desperate need of your love and affection) and the worms stranded on our porch (in desperate need of rescue and rehydration).  Everything is a dad, a mom, and a baby ... with a brother thrown in there sometimes too ... Im talking rocks, play dough worms, ice cream cones, pillows, pumpkins, balloons and jellybeans. Everything.The absolute worst thing in the world right now is when one of your many bandaids begins to come off. The absolute best thing in the world is when warm tortillas are a part of any meal, or better yet, when you get to perch atop the counter to help make them. We love when you sing the alphabet, ABCDEFGHIHIHIB, when you're able to spot the letter E (for Ellie!) at any distance, and that you learned to count to 20 by playing hide and seek. When you've done something you know you ought not to have done (which is pretty regularly these days) you stand frozen to the spot, cover your face with your hands, and wear the biggest grin. Maybe you're trying to distract us with your dimples? Or will yourself to disappear? If disappearing doesn't work, you try to outrun us, diving headfirst into the sofa, or bed, or stuffed animal basket. You are snuggly in the mornings and craziest in the evenings. Right now you live for Gwyn's attention, long to spend every waking moment in dad's arms, cry out for me at night when you have growing pains, still talk like a caveman (me want the pink cup), and refuse to be a part of any clean up effort around the house (I bet all the lollipops in Disneyland you've picked up and put away seven toys in your whole life). You love to climb, be upside down, play with balloons, anything to do with Old McDonald and his farm, the color pink, sticker earrings, wearing dresses, and being outside every moment of the day. Being with you is my favorite. I am so in love with almost three year old you. 

Love,

Mom

All the ORANGES

We just went through a Costco sized bag of clementines in four days. And when I say we, I mean Eleanor. If you could hear the way her deep little voice sounds when she says oranges, you would hand them over too. I'm sure of it. Except just don't peel them for her. Heaven help us all if you peel the clementine. You just need to start it every so slightly. She'll say thank you (eetoo) and then walk away to a random spot in the house and begin pulling the rind away from the fruit, leaving little piles of orange flecks as she goes. Then she'll come to you and say yucky part please (uckey art pees). She wants you to take the pith out of the center and then hand it back immediately. She'll say thank you and then walk away with her cheeks stuffed with clementines and a satisfied smile on her face. Then repeat this at least twenty times throughout the rest of the day.

Come to think of it she loves peeling all the things - hard boiled eggs, string cheese, bananas. Yesterday she peeled her Costco (we needed more clementines) hotdog to shreds. It was super gross, but classic Eleanor. If it can be peeled ... or even if it can't, she's your girl!

Eleanor Turnes TWO!

Lovely Eleanor,

You are drops of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles and golden glitter all wrapped up into one tiny human. Along with Ellie Noellie, dad and I have started calling your Sugar Plum, our little fairy, and it feels fitting, especially since you joined us at Christmas time. Your hair is curly, your eyes are warm and bright. You are quick to laugh and be silly. You are always trying to make others laugh with side glances, or throwing yourself on the floor.  You are ticklish. You love to be close, often holding my face in your hands and kissing me on the lips. Any meal we have with dad, you demand to be on his lap - scampering off five minutes into it to run off for a moment and return every now and again for a bite. We really should teach you to sit in your won chair and eat with us, but right now it feels better to keep the peace. If Liam or Gwyn are ever upset, you are the first one by their side, with your little hands on their cheeks, or your arm wrapped around their necks. If that doesn't work, you dash off to find the nearest stuffed animal to give them. If that doesn't work, you try giving them twenty more until they've forgotten what they were so sad about.

Ellie, you are talking a million miles a minute, and say new strings of words every day. We love the sound of your deep, little voice. The first words that you said regularly were apples "appoos", more, and thank you "eeetoo". You've become a tiny parrot, repeating everything you hear in your own Ellie way, and your eyes shine so brightly when we're able understand what you're asking for or ask questions about the stories you tell. You love connection and feeling a part of what is going on around you. 

Your favorite things in the whole wide world are your Lamby (which you are rarely parted with), Liam and Gwyn, baths, being outside, bike rides, singing, reading books, closing doors and cupboards, pretending to go potty on the toilet, putting lotion on, Moana, our friends Leah and Julie, peeling bananas, oranges, and hard boiled eggs, smelling all the things - candles, oils, spices, and you always give a big sigh after a big sniff. It's my favorite. You love to be flipped around and tossed into the air, swimming, sliding, running, wrestling, balls, babydoll, and the little pretend kitchen stuffed to the brim with plastic fruits and vegetables and cooking gadgets. You love dressing up, wearing jewelry and demand lips - iiiips!! when you catch me putting on lipstick.   

You let me braid your hair and kiss your cheeks seven million times a day. Liam and Gwyn are your sun and moon. Your days revolve around and gravitate towards what they're doing. You want to be so big. I hear no ME do it! all the live long day - from going down the stairs to peeling clementines, getting in the car, and putting on your socks. I adore your determination, your courage, your generous heart, and your love for your family.  

We thought the best way to celebrate you was with balloons and babies, sprinkles, a little walk outside, and a bath so long that each of your fingers and toes turned pruney. You held your baby dolls close, snuggled and patted their backs. You spent half the day throwing balloons into the air and catching them in your arms. You wanted a doughnut for each hand but ended up only taking a few nibbles out of each before slipping off of your chair to play. Even if it's windy and cold, you love to be outside. We fed the ducks, and I wonder how long you would have stood watching them if I didn't have to scoop you up and bring you in to warm nose and tiny fingers. 

Ellie, you are such a gift. Your dimples, your warm brown eyes, and the hundred different expressions they flit through throughout the day ... your love for your family, your determination, your generosity, your gumption. Your softness and silliness and bright toothy smile. Your curly tendrils and long legs. You are brave. You are compassionate. You are thoughtful. You are a caregiver, a singer, a clementine guzzler, a curious George loving wild woman. You are curious. You are a jumping bean. You are a munchie snacker, and chitter chatterer, a snuggler, and wonderful sleepier. You are everything, Ellie Noellie. Your desire to be wherever we are, and your ability to lighten our hearts and make us smile are just a few of the reasons you are so needed in our family, and such a light to those around you. I am giddy when I think about our lives together and how exciting it will be to watch you grow and get to know you a little more every year. Two is going to be so much fun!

All our love,

Mom and Dad

15 Month Eleanor

Dear Sweet Eleanor,

So much of you has bloomed and blossomed since winter turned to spring. It was so fun to celebrate your first year in December, but since then you've become even brighter and more beautiful. Your tiny tendrils are always in your face because any clip or bow we use to hold them back ends up in your mouth. We love your dimples and your eight little, pearly teeth. We love your deep voice, all of the intonations you make when you're trying to talk, the way you mimic dad's villainous laugh, and even the way your tiny chin quivers before you start to cry. We love your sweet tooth, the way you hand us things you find on the floor, how you ball up your tiny fists when you're frustrated. We love your dark eyes that change expression a thousand times a day, your tight lipped grin, and the way you scrunch your nose and throw back your head when you're trying to be funny. 

You are so expressive and are able to communicate exactly what you want without saying a word. You shake your head yes and no, point your perfect pudgy little finger, sign more and eat and thank you. You pucker your lips and give the best kisses, which you initiate all throughout the day. It's our absolute favorite. You are so bright and observant and keen to communicate.

Some of your favorite past times are opening up the dishwasher and chucking all of the utensils on the floor, throwing things in the garbage, taking your diapers out of their packaging and flinging them across the floor, pulling the leaves off of our plants, shredding toilet paper, and snatching any stuffed animal Gwyn leaves lying about and running in the opposite direction as fast as your legs can carry you.

You love to be close. You could have a skinned knee, a full diaper, a hungry belly, a sleepy look and you are as happy and as cuddly as can be when you're in our arms. You adore balloons, music (especially Moana), dancing (twirling!), being outside, taking bubble baths, playing patty-cake, peek a boo, eating off of my plate, dumping and pouring everything in to anything, swinging, going down slides, bubbles, dirt, and being barefoot. You wake up from your naps with the tiniest curly tendrils, clutching your Lamby, wide eyed and rosy cheeked. Sometimes while you're nursing you'll glance up at me and smile, and my heart feels like it's going to burst. You're not content unless you are a part of all the action. You want to be bigger than your little body can handle. You climb on chairs, stand on the table, insist on feeding yourself with a fork and spoon, hold a banana with a peel on (no more cutting things into little pieces), put on your shoes, wash your body in the bath, and are completely distraught unless you are doing what you see Gwyn and Liam do. When strangers smile at your, your little eyebrows become storm clouds, your chin tucked into your chest, and you glare back or bury your face in my arms. 

You are curious, cautiously adventurous, and become really engaged in exploring your surroundings and completing little tasks -  like transferring fistfuls of dirt from one pot to another, or stacking cups. You know exactly when you begin tinkering with something you aren't supposed to because the second before you do it, you look over at me with this tight lipped grin and a glint in your eye. 

You are such a little love, and one of the brightest lights in our lives. Thank you for being ours, for loving us so fiercely, for trusting us so completely, for making us laugh every day. You are a dream. We adore you, Ellie.

Mom and Dad