Ellie's Wisdom

As the countdown for this pregnancy slowly winds down, it's a comfort to me every once in a while to see just how grown-up and independent Ellie is becoming. People are always telling us that we will be amazed at how big Ellie will seem when the new baby arrives. But as I look back at her growth and progress from the time we found out Baby Brother was coming last spring to now, I am already amazed.

Tonight she surprised me with her self- sufficiency once again. There are several things that I keep thinking I need to work on with Ellie and never seem to remember to do on a consistent basis. One is drinking from a regular cup (as opposed to a sippy cup). Whenever she is offered a small cup of water at nursery, she first dumps the contents on herself, then puts it up the her mouth. So some weeks she comes home from church pretty soaked. Tonight at dinner she grabbed my mostly empty cup of water and took several moderated sips. No big deal. Just did it. Drinking problem resolved (though probably still in need of good supervision). Evoking less pride but probably just as big of a milestone was her mastery of the ice cream cone last month.

A few weeks ago I heard her wake in the middle of the night with blood-curdling screams. Since I can barely get her in and out of the crib at this point of my pregnancy, I was feeling pretty useless and was about to wake Brady when she suddenly stopped and started talking. Over the baby monitor I heard:

"Okay, okay, Ellie-belly. Okay, Bo Bear. . . blanket. Okay, Mommy, Daddy. Grandma. Okay. [yawning] Go night-night, Ellie-belly. Okay, okay . . . Go to sleep Ellie." It was quiet for a few minutes, then a murmured, "Ice cream, Ellie-belly," as she drifted back to sleep.

The kid talked herself down from a nightmare. (She has also taken to calling herself "Ellie-belly" lately.) I don't know that I have the skills to talk myself down from such extreme anxiety, and here my almost-two-year-old calmly got herself back to sleep.

A few days later she was standing on a chair, playing at the kitchen table. I told her to be careful because the way the chair was tilted she might fall down. Her response was a matter-of-fact, "Ashes, ashes, we all fall down, Mommy." It would have seemed like talking back if she hadn't said it in such a profound way. Indeed we do all fall down, Ellie. I guess she is learning a thing or two at nursery after all.