Friday, January 10, 2014

July 14, 2013

*I wrote this on July 14, 2013, but apparently never posted it. It is never too late to publish a Mama Musing Birthday Post* Eleanor Kate is six years old; no longer a Kindergartener, and not yet a First Grader. I have been a Mama for six years. That shocks me, but then makes me smile. I confess that I wonder daily if I am doing the best I can at this job of Mom. I am lucky to have her and most days, I think she feels lucky to have me too. Let me tell who she is, through her Mama’s eyes, in this, my annual Mama Musing Birthday Post. Eleanor (the name I still love; the one she yells “Don’t call me that!”) is sassy and independent, smart and sensitive. She is a thinker, an observer, and such a snuggly kid. She adores her Daddy and her brother; despite brother being quite a bother these days. Teachers say that she is thoughtful and kind, smart and creative. Friends mostly say that she is smart and sweet. She is making friends easily, and I have learned that declarations of loneliness and isolation might be a tiny bit dramatic and a cry for some Mama love and attention. Today I was looking at baby pictures I have around my office and every picture conjures a memory of a littler, needier Nora Kate. My first baby, my daughter, my girl. From day one, I have hoped I could give you both roots and wings—grounded home and independence. Eleanor tests me daily—sometimes on purpose to see what will happen and other days by accident, but some days I feel like all I do is correct her. Eleanor still runs to me when I pick her up and gives her Dad and me such genuine love. Eleanor whispers confessions of unwise choices now, but still admits them freely (and I expect this will change as she grows). She acts as if she knows everything yet can be shy and uncertain too. Sometimes she will argue with me about the sky being blue; and sometimes she is amazed at what I know. She can read, yet doesn’t want to. She can do math in her head, but doesn’t want to. She can write just about anything with spelling help, yet doesn’t want to. Eleanor has declared weekends as “Stay Home” or “lazy” days and she loves to cook with me. She understands when I say “tone” in public (it means you are using a rude tone of voice to an adult and it is inappropriate) and quickly apologizes; but still reacts with “No” when she is being told something she doesn’t like. Eleanor stomps off in protest, yells a lot, and gets frustrated quickly. I think those are all signs of passion and leadership; but we have some fine tuning to do over the next ten or so years. She loves singing and dancing and still loves dinosaurs. Eleanor, you still say that you will be a Paleontologist when you grow up. And when I say, “I love that! I know you will. I do want you to know it’s a lot of school,” I absolutely love it when you say “I don’t care!” I also love it when I sing to you at night and you let Dolphina (stuffed Dolphin) nuzzle my nose in thanks through the slats on your high bunk bed. So, my girl, another year has come and gone and now you are six years old. You have a sentimental and strong Mama who will nag you incessantly about your education and your behavior. I will teach you to work hard for your own money and choose a partner in life who is the icing on the cupcake you baked for yourself. Hopefully you keep the incredible love of self you have right now; find love of friends without becoming someone you are not; and eventually, the love of a life partner who compliments the amazing person you are. Be smart and know that I love you every single day and I always, always, always will. Happy Birthday kiddo, Love You, Mom