I actually think this picture says is all. Volumes, really. Sweaty, dirty, more vanilla milkshake on her face than in her tummy. See that dirt on the boat? Yah, she threw that.
Isabella is, quite literally, one of the best parts of living. Both my girls are. There is just something about Isabella, her resilience, her free-spirit, her inability to roll her eyes...I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is just something about her. I think it must be somehow easier to be a second child. It certainly seems easier to raise a second child. The first child is almost forced to carry the burden of all the parents neuroses. Don't eat that! It was on the ground! Wear your jacket! You'll catch cold! Don't climb on that! You will fall! Blah, blah, blah...I was horrible with Amelia, in that respect. If I could have put her in a bubble like a really big gerbil, I might have! I lived in fear everyday that she would get hurt, kidnapped, turn ugly...whatever. All of those fears began to fade away the day Isabella was born. I no longer felt compelled to obsess over Amelia the way I used to. I know a lot of it had to do with now having two children to care for, but in spite of that, I had somehow, miraculously, mellowed. As a result, Isabella is a whirling dervish. She wasn't burdened by all of my projected issues. She attacks everyday with fervor. She quite literally, throws herself in front of disaster, and somehow skirts it, every time. And if she should get a little too close to danger, and get a bit of a scare...she gets right up and keeps on truckin'. Although she can be just a wee overzealous at times, we can all take a page from Isabella's book. Live everyday to its fullest. Enjoy every moment. Laugh at things that really aren't all that funny, and celebrate the little things...like making it to the toilet in time, and not peeing on the floor. Especially that last one...that one is a lesson for the ages.
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