Nine.

The weather is a welcome treat this week. Warm and little snow. 25 and we go outside easily without coats. Hats and mittens are yet to come out.

In 2002 the first week of December brought below zero temperatures.  Everyone who visited us during those five days in the hospital came in with red wind-burnt cheeks and their shoulders up bracing the cold and immediately mentioned how cold it was for so early in the year.

I glanced to the window and smiled not quite believing my luck to be holed up in a hospital with not quite five pounds of baby on my chest.

The week I became a mother.

Sometimes I think that Eloise was born an old lady. My real-life Benjamin Buttons.  I’ve heard it all in these nine years – “she’s an old soul” “she’s not a normal kid” “why doesn’t she just go play” “she’s an amazing big sister” “she must be a great help” “she’s the kid that teacher’s dream about”

Sometimes I wonder if it’s too much for her to bear..to be born without an ego.

I look at this girl- who everyone said to handle with care – who could not handle change – and who would worry about everything – who is so much like her father – and I see a young lady…YES a young lady… who is nothing like what people said – A girl who went to five different schools in five years, who handled the birth of two sisters, the move of a house, the funeral of grandparents, the making of new friends, and a clearly imperfect mother – and I see this girl who is ready for a beautiful life of her own.

I see this girl who in kindergarten took a scared new friend and held her hand and told her that everything would be fine and they would be best friends. This girl who always finds that kid on the playground who is sitting alone – and asks them to play.

I see this girl who has never fought with her sisters. Who has never fought another child for a toy. Who would never take something from someone – even as a two year old. Who will always let you go first.  Who will in a minute give-up her place in line. Who will drop everything she is doing if she hears her sister cry. Who will ask if I would like a coffee if she happens to be in the kitchen. And who will offer you the last cookie before taking it herself.

Page 1 of 4 | Next page