Oh, Ella, my poor little second child. See, dear, the thing is that when one's children multiply, her free time divides. That's all. You're not any less loved or appreciated than Eric, just littler. I swear. So, without further ado, this post is all about you.
Ella, you're a little pistol. You're full of spirit and fierce independence, but also empathy. You don't seem to be afraid of anything, and you enjoy taking care of everyone. You're full of giggles and hugs. You love to dance to loud music, play with cars and trucks and push your dolls around in a stroller. You're always carrying around a cell phone, or anything that looks like a cell phone to you--calculators, ipods, remote controls.
But the activity you love more than anything--MORE THAN ANYTHING--is putting on my shoes and wearing them around the house. The higher the heel the better. And seldom do the shoes match each other. Your favorite pair right now is a red patent leather pump and a brown strappy sandal--both left shoes. And, truth be told, you're pretty good at walking around in my shoes. Except when you aren't, of course. You've been know to topple over and knock your noodle on something, just to get right back up, yell at the shoes for making you fall, and put them right back on, showing them who's boss. Lots of times you're both sporting my shoes and "talking" on the cell phone.
You're also have lots of cute words right now. You get up in the morning and ask me for a fafo (Ellish for waffle). You do not, however, find it amusing when I ask you if that is a breakfast delight from the Grecian island of Fafos. Before you put on your shoes, you have to put on your gocks, and your affirmative response is, "Yesh." It's actually a pretty mean Sean Connery impersonation. Even though you know what a banana is if asked to point one out, you still insist on calling it an "appo" if you want to eat one. Your favorite things to drink are "appo duce" and "moke". You also enjoy nutrition-packed dinners consisting of "hockogs" or "peeta". Often times, you don't care if our meals are identical, you prefer to sidle up to me, bat your big old eyelashes and say, "Bite?"
Last but not least, you adore your big brother, "Ermo." You follow him around, doing everything he does. And you're absolutely convinced that you have the motor skills to do everything he can do. You're always trying to help him, though he often doesn't appreciate it, although he does adore you too. You guys are often partners in crime, and many times I can't figure out whose bad idea it was in the first place.
So, Ella, there's you in a tiny little nutshell. And even though I'm frequently forced to do horrible things to you, such as change your diaper and brush your hair, I want you to know that I love you very much. You're the best little girl I've got!
(And, for the record, you just walked past in the strappy sandal and the red heel...)