Eleanor

She’s getting too big for our little rocking chair.

She is full of questions; that hasn’t changed.

She is riveted whenever I work on a crafty project, especially sewing. She loves to hand me pins or put them in the box for me as I work. She pats my arm, tells me she loves me, and cheers me on the whole way.

She is really excited about the Halloween costumes I’m making for her and Phae. It’s starting to feel worth all the trouble when I see her jump up and down over it almost being finished.

She had a part in the Primary program a few weeks ago. She delivered her part perfectly; she was really excited to talk in the microphone. The rest of the time, when she was supposed to be singing, she goofed around with a boy in her class. I realize we’re really tactile at our house, playing around by tickling, wrestling, and pestering each other. I just didn’t realize how much it carried over into her interactions with friends. She and that boy were poking at each other, tickling, and teasing each other the whole time. Their Primary teacher was right next to him, and I saw her lean over and talk to them a time or two. It didn’t do much good. I practically had to restrain Grant to keep him from going up there and telling her to behave. I thought it was kind of funny. It was distracting and irreverent, but still, kinda funny.

She loves nature. I took the girls for a walk the other day, and they started collecting fallen leaves. Eleanor picked up so many, she could hardly hold them. She was so proud to have more leaves than Phaedra. When we got home, I told her we needed to keep them outside, but she could find a safe spot in the back yard to put the leaves. She fretted over where to put them and stalled at my many attempts to get her inside so I could start dinner. I had planned to let her help make dinner, something the kids always enjoy. Eleanor came in and said, “I have a great idea. Why don’t I play in the back yard while you get dinner ready?” So I decided not to fight it. I only wanted their help as a fun activity; it wouldn’t be fun if I was going to have to make them do it.

The next day, we brought in some of her leaves and made leaf rubbings with crayons.

She loves her daddy. She loves to play rough with him, climbing on his shoulders and playing wrestling games.

She chooses her clothes most days, and I rarely second guess her choices. When I do tell her she might need to choose a different shirt or pants (mostly because of the weather), she’s usually cooperative. I like how easy-going she can be about getting dressed.

She’s still a very sensitive kid. She cries almost every time she watches the ending of Clifford’s Really Big Movie. She either cries and tells me she misses Lane, or she cries and tells me she’s just so happy (Emily Elizabeth and Clifford are reunited at the end).

Sometimes I cannot believe how very much she is like me. Some days, that can really work against us, and some days, it helps me understand her and how to relate to her.

She is such a sweet, loving, special little girl. She’s good to her sister most of the time, better than I had imagined siblings to be. She brightens my day with her smiles and her ability to find joy in the smallest of things. I’m so blessed to be her mother.