Ella

She wore her jammies all day.  I like how her round pot-belly shows in those soft, snug jammies.

She followed me around the house while I did laundry.  Emptied the dishwasher.  Washed and chopped and sauteed and simmered our supper.  Washed the cabinets and the wall and the pickets.

We played matching cards.  Where I ended up being the only one playing. 

She twirled, and she jumped.

Those little tiny feet padded around the house…

tum tum tum tum tum tum tum 

…those silky locks of hair springing on her shoulders. 

She helped me make cookies.  Pressed the cutter into the dough.  Added the raisin buttons to our gingerbread men.  Ella likes many, many raisin buttons on her gingerbread men.  Many, many raisins.

When she bored of my work, she emptied the bookshelf.  Made tea with all of the clean cups and spoons in our kitchen.  Pushed jellycat in her stroller.  Dismantled lego cars that Henry had spent a full morning constructing.  Doodled spirally things, and snakes, and happy faces on my notepad.  In her wake she left a path of destruction.

She charmed me with her smile.  Delighted me with her words.  Exhausted me with her busy-ness.  Tried my patience with her independence.   

And with her “wuv too, Mom”, she laid claim to my heart.

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Ella

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