The Saturday after Thanksgiving was beautiful, so we headed to the zoo, where the cold had discouraged other visitors, so we pretty much had the place to ourselves. One of the highlights was the animal we found that was NOT in a cage--the snake that was lying lethargically on the walkway. While I was fairly certain he was not poisonous (turns out he's a garter), I was reticent to let Evelyn do what she WANTED to do--pick it up.
Which brings me to thoughts about ou
r firstborn, who is not afraid of bugs or reptiles in general. She's been described as having "Joie de Vie" and being "exhuberant," both of which I love. She is the kind of kid who never walks anywhere--she runs. I've learned by experience to keep my head well to the side of her when bending down to do things like zip her coat, because she is highly likely to have a thought that will inspire her instantly to jump up & down & catch me squarely on the chin.
She is not shy. She'll run away in a crowd because she's seen something fascinating, and is rarely struck with our absence. She loves when people come to our house, and we are blessed to have a home in and out of which pass a delightfully varied group of friends and family. On the Friday after Thanksgiving we took the city bus down to Port Discovery to meet my in-laws and Matt & Becky and Casey, and on the way home the bus was so crowded Alan and I had to split up and each take a kid. While Alan stood, Evelyn sat between two women, and very naturally rested one hand on each of their knees.
If you were to surprise Evelyn by spraying her with a garden hose, tossing her in the air or bumping into her in a moonbounce, she would burst into laughter--most likely SQUEALS of laughter. When she sees something that excites her, she often screams at the top of her lungs, which means I am frequently saying to frozen, horrified crowds of people, "It's alright--everything is fine--that was a HAPPY scream!"
She loves going outside. In fact, if we do NOT go outside, there is a noticeable stir-craziness. If I'm on the phone with my mom and things are sounding wild from her end, Mom just might ask quietly, "Have they gone outside today?" And she will be right--mostly from her own experience at having to expel a certain wild daughter to the back yard every day, regardless of weather, for the sake of her own sanity.
Evelyn's not clingy--she rarely sits still long enough to snuggle (unless she is sick)--and she's always rushed enthusiastically into any classroom or situation where she has to leave her parents behind. She has no self-consciousness yet--for which I am grateful, and yet fearful, too, because she has just enough of my goofy tendencies to be found odd by her peers, most of whom have started to label things "weird" if they see fit. One of her Sunday School friends told her mother that "Evelyn is the kind of kid who would stuff a whole banana in her mouth." So far, Evelyn has not done exactly that (but I admit--I have.)
Another thing she has inherited from her mother, unfortunately, is the cruel combination of fierce independence and complete lack of patience. This means that she wants desperately to button her own shirt or put on her own gloves, but with the first tiny sense of inability explodes instantly with dramatic cries of "I CAN'T DO IT! I CAN'T! I CAAAAAAAAAAAAN'T!!!!" We practice proceedure a lot, and I find myself saying, "slow down--one thing at a time--take your time--slow down--you can do it--" and I have this feeling I'm hearing my own mother's voice in my head as she said those same sorts of things to ME. Regrettably, I also passed down my tendency to get MAD when I get hurt. Evelyn will scream in fury and run away from the people who would so love to console her, preferring to deal with her pain aggressively and in solitude.
On a more positive side, she inherited my love for reading, watching, and making up stories. She is our "movie zombie" who would watch marathon flicks if we let her, and will sit miraculously through book after book after book. We were able to attend a surprise party for my dad at the radio station a week ago, and when she heard Opah telling his stories to the crowd of 30 or so, she was determined to tell one, too. So she yelled for everyone to be quiet--"I have a story to tell," and proceeded to loudly spin a yarn about when her mommy was a baby (I think it ended, as most of her stories do, in made-up language, which is her fail-safe way of ending stories. When asked what those made-up words are, she usually says that it is Spanish for something.)
It's been a wonderful adventure so far, this parenting thing. I am amazed at how individual our girls are, and am so thrilled to see them learning, growing, and appreciating life together. My own joy in the simple things of life is renewed every day--what a gift!!--and I have to try hard not to think about how fleeting these days are. I am often tired and at my wits' end in pursuit of the right parenting action, but it has been worth it for the lessons I've learned about God & how He feels and acts toward us, His children.
