Baby is Three

My baby, Bella, turned three a just a couple weeks ago.  We haven’t had our big celebration yet, which is to come in just one more week, but I did the celebrating in my heart already.  Her birthday was a day of peaceful reflection for me.  I remembered how light her coloring was when she was first born -- so white that I called her my “marshmallow”; how soft and warm she was in my arms the night she was born – a swaddled little cozy sack of flour.  She was my only baby that I got to hold on their first day or sleep beside during those first precious days/weeks in this world (because the other two were in the NICU).  She was my only baby who was able to nurse, and it was a wonderful, amazing experience that kind of makes me want to weep with joy whenever I think about how it was.  I still remember the way she would look up at me with her big, wise eyes and her serious brow and then she would smile, still eating, but grinning all the while. 

Now, she’s everything I hoped she’d be at three years and then some.  The “then some” is both terrible and terribly wonderful.  She is an old soul.  She has never really had the innocence of a child, the way my other two did, or at least she doesn’t show it.  She is independent, individualistic, creative, confident, compassionate, sassy, caring, girly, dramatic, intelligent, straightforward, strangely intuitive, savvy, sweet, bold, shy, and fun-loving all at once.  It could be said that she is a leader among our three children and in other circles as well.  She is especially protective, caring, and loyal when it comes to her sister and brother.  She loves to giggle.  She has to change into a princess outfit at least once a day.  She adores tea parties, going to the park, swimming, dancing, Disney, and doing anything artsy.  She is athletically inclined.  She can operate her myoelectric prosthesis and uses it to manipulate toys, uncap markers, hold down paper while she draws, hold bottles while she unscrews or plays with bubbles.  When I can’t find her, she is usually in the dining room at her white table, coloring to her little heart’s content.  She has at least thirty different facial expressions that she uses on a regular basis.

She is my Bellarina, my Tinkerbella, my Cinderbella.  My baby, Bella.  And I love her more than words can say.

 

Recent art samples: