The Transformation into a Daughter

In one year, she grew five inches.  Five inches.  She was a premie at birth, and small for her age when we brought her home at age two and a half.  No one could call her tiny any more.

It’s been a different experience for us, bringing home a toddler instead of a baby.  She had come from an excellent place, but not a family.  She has a strong-willed personality to begin with, and had become accustomed to fighting for what she wanted.  A hand to hold, her cup of water, a lap to sit on, any possession that she had touched in the last 30 minutes–all were worth fighting for in her world.  And boy could she fight.   

She’s still a fighter, and I doubt that will change.  But she’s also secure in love.  She’s still a screamer, but it only lasts 30 seconds instead of 30 minutes. 

She is my introvert.  She is often quiet and comtemplative and likes to play by herself.  She is very domestic and loves anything to do with babies and dishes and cleaning.  Every day at dinnertime, she stands on the stool next to me, chattering away non-stop.  She loves to help, loves to wipe my cupboards, and loves to carry her babies around on her back, African style.

And now she’s four.