She is a beautiful combination of take charge and tenderness. Depending on her mood (or her agenda), one or the other will be her dominate personality each day. She is her father’s daughter, and most importantly, she has his eyes…dark brown and determined. All girls should have their daddy’s eyes. She says hysterical things to me like “those kids are getting on my nerves” when referring to her brother and sister; yet also begs me daily to have another child. She promises she would do all the work ,”Mommy, all you have to do is birth it.” And honestly, I believe her. She wakes up early in the morning to come down and make her brother and sister Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes…I promise I’m not making this up. She cuts fruit, organizes a buffet, and then calls them in when it’s ready. I’m not sure what I would do without her.
My Ella Grace is a nurturer, she is most alive when she is serving. What a Jesus gift of grace she is to me. So when my husband had the brilliant idea of giving over the grocery shopping to my oldest child, I was annoyed I had not thought of the idea first. I mean seriously, what in the world took us so long? She wants more responsibility, she is totally responsible and trustworthy, she is more organized than I am (and has been since she was 4), I despise grocery shopping, and she loves to be in charge of a project. We showed her how to place an order online, and 20 minutes later she said, “Mommy, it’s done, the groceries can be picked up at 5:30″. Am I the only person who hears the sound of angels singing? I kind of feel like it was one of those parenting moments I will remember the rest of my life; and now all I’m thinking is, what else can I give over to her? I love that kid.
In completely unrelated news, my husband convinced me to run one of those ridiculous mud races with him. This was the speech I heard: “I have walked through many art museums with you for hours on end. Looking at Monet’s Waterlilies was one of the most painful ways I have ever spent a day (by the way, I’m still trying to catch my breath from the outrage I experienced when those words left his lips). I think I have earned you running in a mud race with me.” Have you ever in your life heard anyone equate experiencing the beauty of Monet’s Waterlilies, to running in the Rugged Maniac? I am beside myself…the audacity. Despite his ridiculous comparison, I love the man fiercely, so I agreed. And yes, that is me, the one whose appendages seem to be flailing about as if they are unattached from my body. And yes, that is my husband, the one about to land on top of me in a mud pit. He said, “Amy, I think this has made our marriage stronger.” Please, would someone tell me why that is so.