This morning Isabella woke up in a pretty good mood for a change. Before I could even get her to the changing table, she heard the lawn crew outside and demanded to be put down. She raced to the kitchen window and lifted the shade to watch the lawnmowers go by, a cute little cherub in pink pajamas, standing on a stool in rapt attention. I wish I’d got a picture.
It wasn’t until they’d finished the yard and driven away that she let me change her very wet diaper and put on play clothes. It was a rather nice change in routine for me. She usually wakes up very hungry and irritable and whines while I get her breakfast. Today she even played for a bit, once she was dressed, before she demanded her usual yogurt. I was able to cut up her berries, mix her cereal and dish out the yogurt while she was distracted by the show outside.
Isabella is afraid of elevators, I’m not sure why. It’s not a new thing, though. She’s been doing it for months. When the elevator starts moving, she starts crying. Today I had to go to the doctor’s office to pick up my medical records and sure enough when the elevator doors closed, she cried and cried. Then when I’d done my errand, we went back out to the hall and started back to the elevator and she stopped, dug in her heels, and started crying. Ok, fine, I said. We can take the stairs. She climbed down the first three flights but I had to carry her down the last little bit.
Recently she’s take to laughing loudly with her hand in front of her mouth, bending forward. It’s a kind of fake laugh, but usually happens when she’s really happy and boisterous, like right after Daddy’s come home from work. Dom says she’s imitating me. I didn’t realize I did that.
Is there anything more joyful than a child running for the sheer delight of running? Isabella trotting back and forth on the back porch, laughing uproariously = pure joy. How can we not laugh along with her and feel our hearts lighten? How can I not thank God and praise him for the joy that is my daughter?