Goals and the rush of childhood.

I had long neglected my 101 in 1001 blog but that isnt to say that time doesnt truck by and the goals aren't slowly but surely being accomplished. I am down to 50 tasks out of the original 101 and have surpassed the half way to goal mark! It is exciting and I still have 258 days left in my 1001 days!

Life changes so quickly and I am confident that no matter where life takes me in 258 days, my dreams remain as they were when I started my 101 list. Watching the time tick by on my 101 blog counter, I am reminded of how quickly time is escaping from us. The girls are bursting (as am I, literally!) and I can hardly keep up with them. In the little things that take up the hustle and bustle of the days, the girls are growing and learning and challenging me every day. I feel extraordinarily lucky some days (even when they are their most trying darling selves) watching them develop into themselves.

Julia's mind whirs by, clicking into ideas and mulling over details, spitting out ocasional tunrs of phrases that stun and amuse me. The other day over dinner, she asked if the baby was eating the spaghetti I was eating. I said yes, in a way, the baby would get spaghetti too. She thought about it for a moment and laughed--the brilliant four year old light bulb moment laugh--about how the baby was inside my tummy so unless spaghetti was inside my blood, it would be silly that the baby was eating spaghetti too. And then she added, "I think the baby is covered in blood!" I looked at her a moment, thought about the streaky newborn baby bodies awash in vernix and blood and said slowly, "Yes, the baby is sort of covered in blood." But, knowing my daughter's uncanny knack for filing away things that I tell her and regurgitating it for random company in random moments, I decided that I wanted her to have at least some of the facts straight. So I said to her, "You know, the baby in mommy's tummy isnt swimming around in mommy's blood because the baby lives in a special bag called a uterus." Her eyes widened for a moment and she repeated, "Uterus? The baby lives in a uterus?" I nodded and she thought about it for a moment more, absorbing and filing it away, picked up her fork again, and tucked into the rest of her spahetti. Some people might think that I tell my four year old more than she needs to know but I can live with that.

Elena is an altogether different fish. She is proud and stubborn and headstrong (she gets it all from her dad, didn't you know) and she constantly amazes and annoys me. I guess I have to admit that, maybe, just maybe, she is enough like me to frustrate me. When she was smaller, I was sure that she would be all tomboy. She climbs and jumps and dares things her sister would never think of doing. She throws herself into situations and people in a wild headlong fashion, as long as they are her terms. She has moments of hesitency and simpering softness but, again, only on her terms. If someone dares to dictate how she ought to be feeling, or wearing or doing at any given moment, she will do an immediate 180 and suddenly, everything that was red is now blue. Her temper is fierce and quick and she is shockingly adorable with her fist shaking and foot stomping. Elena has a natural leadership and empathy for others that sometimes leads to amusing, if terrible flares of temper. Sometimes if we are engaging in tickle games with Julia, Elena will declare, "Oh no! Ju-ya in twu-bull! I got to save her!" She will then charge towards the offending person who is holding her sister hostage and shake her fist in their face, "You wet her go! No mo' tickowing! Un'erstaaaand?!?" She, of course, punctuates every other word with a stamp of her foot. After trying to "reason" with the person for the release of her sister, she will then resort to trying to physically pry her sister bodily away from the situation, "Don't wowwy Ju-ya, I save you!" She plays out this scenario with her dolls, with her animals, with random peas that fall off her plate. Always the brave hero. She walks around the house hoisting various toys and tupperware over her head, "I so stwong! I Ewayna, the superhewo!" And despite all this, she is also a balance of girly girl who loves frilly tutus and flouncy dresses, she likes to wear tiaras and carry magic wands. She is unendingly maternal with her dolls and presses kisses to the fishtank becuase we won't let her pet the fish (though heaven knows she tries "Look mom, the fish are all wet!"). Sigh. And now, she is potty training herself (again, yes, we tried before but this seems to really be happening) and this time? She loves the idea of being in total control over what she wears and when she takes herself to the bathroom. The last time, I still had to lift her onto the toilet seat and it didnt scream "independent" enough for her so it stopped. But now that she dresses and undresses herself, picks her own wardrobe and put on her own shoes, she is determined that she will do this herself too.

I am so excited to see #3 and to catch my own little glimpses into the personality that will eventually grow beyond me and burst out into the world, a dove, a grouse, an eagle in flight.