The Elle of the Ball

I write a lot and talk a good deal about my children. Matter of fact it is about all I ever talk about with the exception of running and speech pathology.  As a mother, I feel pretty guilty because I have three children, but I feel like one of them is left undiscovered.  Two of my crew dominate my life, one due to his needs, so to speak, and the other because she cannot help but to be the center of the world.  Poor little Elle gets lost in the shuffle, but believe me, she is anything but a wallflower. In fact, you could call her the "Elle of the Ball."

Elle started walking last week.  It is hilarious. I love it.  She is so proud. We are too, obviously!  Elle crouches and almost crab walks, like MC Hammer circa 1989 think "You Can't Touch This." She does not quit talking either, she's my daughter after all. She is one of the most beautiful people I have ever met! A bubbly, little beauty queen, with a grand future ahead of her.  But beware, she has a terrible temper. She screams and kicks, pinches and hits, slaps and cries. Her and Easton get into the craziest fights too. Is that your wall outlet Easton, I don't think so Easton, it is Elle's wall outlet, I will electrocute myself long before you will Easton?!

Elle enjoys a good party.  She loves people.  People really love her too.  She thrives from being around people.  She has an extensive vocabulary, loves animals, and seems to have more empathy than most adults do, and she is just 11 months old!  When Ava gets in trouble, Elle will cry.  When Easton gets hurt she tries to reassure him by patting him, holding his hand, or mothering him.  She watches me and gives me loving looks.  She seems to know when I need her most.

If you ever wondered why I call her "The Elle of the Ball," you can likely figure it out now. She has places to go and she has started so early in life.  So there's Elle in a nutshell.  She's my baby, and "nobody puts Baby in the corner!"