My littlest girly turned two this week.
I hear her awake after her nap most days, singing to herself, “Hap Bir-day ME!!! Hap Bir-day ME!!!!” Peeking into her door, I whisper, “Eliza! Did you have a birthday!?” She nods her head up and down. “YEAH!”
“How old are you?” I say. And she raises the pointer finger on both hands, puts them right next to each cheek and says, “Two-ah!”
She got new blue shoes with birds on them, which are her three favorite things (blue, shoes, birds). How could I not get them for her?
And then there was the rocking horse from Papa and Dotsey that she promptly named “Eliza Grace” and then renamed “Hee-hee-hee-hee”.
Ah, we love her.
A few weeks ago, she walked up to a picture and said, “Baby? Annie? Me?” She was asking me if the baby in the picture was her or Annie. Allowing her to enter into our grief hurts a little sometimes. She is so joyful and innocent and I wonder how this will touch her. Will she get it? Will she feel slighted that she wasn’t part of us when it happened?
The story of our family goes on . . . and oh, I’m just so glad that I have the privilege of raising this one.
Happy Two-ah Birthday, Little E.
P.S. Language development? Well, it’s a beautiful thing. Unfortunately, Eliza is bringing many laughs to her siblings as she works certain letter sounds out. Her word for soup: poop. Her word for coffee: pee-pee. As if that’s not bad enough, she looked at me and exclaimed yesterday, “I’m TOOT!” (cute). William and Kate were rolling.