Eliza is already incredibly grown-up. She takes such good care of Isaiah, and always has, that it is no stretch to call her the second mother around here. When neither I nor that equally hardheaded redhead will compromise in a tiff, Eliza is the one who teases, bribes, and cajoles him into obedience. She is so good at keeping up on homework and practicing her instrument that I hardly even have to check in with her. She is full of creative energy and is always sculpting little gifts for loved ones with upcoming birthdays--and in a pinch, loved ones without upcoming birthdays. She is so very invested in all the relationships in her life and I love how she nurtures our whole family with her sweet love notes, her acts of service, and her full forgiveness when we need it. She is graceful, thoughtful, and full of love.
This year, for the first time--Eliza asked for clothes, jewelry and lip gloss for her birthday. It marked for me, the beginning of the end of her childhood. Is that too dramatic? It's not like it's a surprise or anything. Eliza has been pushing for her glorious teen years since she was about three. And it makes me feel a little bit like an old fogie, standing here and scratching my head over where the time has gone.
Luckily for me, as I watch closely, there are still plenty of evidences that she's still my Eliza. Monday we had our traditional water slide birthday party in the park for her, and I watched her frolic up and down the hill with her cousins. And I know, too, that although the clock is ticking on her childhood, she will really always be my Eliza.
This picture was Eliza's idea. We were both wearing purple, and both had our hair fixed
(I won't tell you which occurence is less common.)