Friday, April 9, 2010

eliot's gotcha day

What a year you have had! You learned to talk; you learned to walk; you learned to eat. You got your g-tube removed; got released from three of your specialists; and got kicked out of speech therapy for performing at an above average level. How impressive . . .

Every Christmas, I ask your grandparents to get me a piece of pottery to symbolize the year. This past holiday, I got a small vase adorned with the ginkgo leaf. The ginkgo is said to be the oldest living seed-bearing plant in the world, and was the first living thing to bloom after the devastation at Hiroshima. Because of this, it has become a symbol of longevity and hope. I placed the vase proudly by your picture in the family room, because the ginkgo reminds me of you - strong and full of promise.

In the midst of all of these impressive traits, however, you my dear, can throw a temper tantrum that can bring the house down. "This is a pretty dress, Eliot." Nooooo! Noooooo dress. Superman shirt?
"Eliot, let's put this cute bow in your hair." Nooooo! No bow. Owen's hair. It practically took an act of God to get you into your car seat yesterday, because you decided that you didn't want to be in your car seat for I have NO idea what reason. But, girl. You had a reason, and an opinion, and you were very eager to share it.

If Owen follows some of the rules most of the time; you follow none of the rules all of the time. We take you upstairs to go to sleep, and you run into the master bedroom. I catch you, tell you to go to your room, and you run into the laundry room and jump into Jackson's cage. I catch you again, tell you to go to your room, and you run into the guest bedroom, look at me, and then shut the door in my face - cracking up the whole time. Your selective hearing is infuriating, and at the same time, absolutely hilarious.

At the end of the night though - after the tantrums and trouble - I could just sit and watch you talk about your day with "baby bear"; sing him and the rest of your stuffed animals the alphabet song; and practice jumping in your bed. You love nestling your head on your daddy's shoulder; you love putting yourself in time out (just to beat me to it); and you love proving to Owen that you "can do it, too" - no matter how high, fast, or ridiculous.

You are goodness and grace, Elie Mak; mischief and humor; brainy, but with just enough quirk to make you interesting. We are proud of you and inspired by your accomplishments this year. Congratulations on your 3rd at-home anniversary, Eliot. We're glad we gotcha.

Testing her new bubble bucket.

A new paint brush kit!

Just doin' what we do.

A new bike for Eliot, too.

An artist at work.

After her favorite dinner: pizza, avocado, and hummus.

For dessert, El asked for cupcakes, ice cream, and daddy.

And then, there was Owie . . .

and the blue cupcake that attacked him.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

good lord, are they getting big! congratulations on such beautiful children... you've done well, momma!
love, suz