Oh, my Lila. I love so many things about this daughter of mine. I've posted a lot of her pictures and stories lately on Facebook and Instagram, so I thought I'd devote the first 2013 edition of "What ______ Looks Like" to my sweet middle one. She blesses my heart every day, and it is a joy to share her with you today, with a combination of iPhone photos and "big camera" photos as well. I hope you enjoy. ////
What Being With Lila Looks Like
She is my free-spirit. My messy artist, my lover of crafting and painting and sticking and taping and drawing and sketching and writing. She is forever leaving us notes, writing on calendars, art paper, envelopes, and her favorite canvas: HERSELF. Marker-tattoos are her specialty.
She is an enthusiastic early reader (she's only four), and she always begs for "just one more story" at bedtime. It's hard to tell her no.
My helper, my little mama. She always knows where I've absentmindedly sat something down. She is delightfully observant. She can always tell me what Charlotte needs when she cries, which comes in super handy in the car! I find Lila's babydolls covered up with blankets all over the house. She often shushes me because "Bitty Baby is asleep." She will make an excellent mama someday.
Lila is our tomboy-princess. All of her "twuhly skiwts" (twirly skirts) have tiny holes in the hems, because she climbs trees (with her brother) while wearing them. Fancy clothes cannot hold her back.
She is a mirror, reflecting my mannerisms and habits back to me. It's not always sweet, which lets me keep a check on my own heart. For instance, when we're stuck in traffic, her sweet voice suddenly shocks you with, "GO, people. We don't have all day." I raise my guilty hand. Pretty embarrassed about it, too.
Her sweet lisp is endearing to me, and I will certainly mourn when she outgrows it. "We don't go to da gas station wif da gween sun because dey made our ocean diwty." (Referring to the historic Gulf oil spill and our resulting boycott of that particular gas station with the green sunburst logo.)
She's delightfully random. She pipes up with whatever is on her mind at any given moment: "I like butterflies!"
She has her own beautiful way of saying ordinary words. Taking off her shoes post-beach and shaking them out, she exclaims: "My shoes have sandy in dem." When the moonroof is open, and our car's interior is too bright for her liking, she begs... "Close it! It's too shiny!" This sweet girl has no idea that she is our sunshine.
She is funny without ever trying to be. When Skyping with my sister once, our computer screen froze and we complained about it. Always the literal one, Lila scrambled up and offered, "I'll go turn off the fan." Darling girl thought we were really "freezing".
She's forever carrying food around the house. One evening several months ago, as I nursed Charlotte in the bedroom chair, Lila brought an entire plate of food into the bedroom. I asked her to please take her food to the table. Of course, I meant the kitchen table, but she promptly sat her plate on the bedroom nightstand. (I did say a table, after all.) I don't think the kitchen table ever occurred to her; she just looked around the room for the nearest table, so that she could still be with us. How could I refuse her? Again, she's so literal that it makes me smile.
Lila Kate. Lilabean. Lilabug. Lila Cakes. Li. Lila Jane. Ya-ya (Charlotte's baby-talk name for her).
I asked her once, "Lila, what in the world would I do without you?" She smiled and quickly offered, "You'd cry... and cry and cry and cry."
And I would.
I'm honored to link up to Shannon Sewell this month. I had the pleasure of interviewing her in 2011 for The Creative Mama's Creative Photography Series. She is delightful, and I can't wait to see the gorgeous art she shares with us today.