Eleanor, one

I was a mother of five days when a lady approached me in the grocery store to fawn over my tiny, probably underdressed baby boy.  Oooooh!  He's just precious, she said.  I'll bet you can't even remember what life was like without him!

The thing was, I was 21 years old and in total shock.  I didn't understand what had happened to my life, my body or my still-new marriage.  Oh yes I can, I thought.  I remember it VERY well!

The fourth baby is different.  Sometimes ignored, neglected and just plain unnoticed, I often try to convince myself that all of that is made up for by the fact that the nervousness and inexperience of early parenthood will never touch her.

Eleanor is Eleanor, and by now I understand that I'm not so much a sculptor of human life, but a cultivator.  That little seed of a baby will grow into the woman she's meant to be- all she needs is a little encouragement, love and protection from me.

This much has become clear over the past few months.  That easy-going little baby is turning into a determined, stubborn, adventurous girl.  Just the other day she was crawling around on the floor at church, and when I tried to block her from the bathroom door by standing in front of her, she simply lowered her head and barreled into my legs.

She's walking now, less like a zombie each day.  She rotates her chubby little wrist back and forth in a cute wave when saying hello and goodbye.  She loves tomatoes and broccoli, but hates carrots.  She loves the ocean and all things water-related, including plunging her arms into the toilet every chance she gets.  She feeds her baby doll and pats the dog.

I can't imagine my life without her.