The New Night Owl

I just found a pair of Owl's socks in the washer. Why is this so significant? Because nearly three months ago, she was a tornado. A dumping, kicking, spitting, tearing, hurting, screaming storm of a child spinning wildly around out there on her own. Initially, nothing I did could convince her that she had someone on her team here. Fast forward two months, though, and we have a kid who follows every routine introduced and appears to love it. Shoes in box. Socks in washer. Backpack by table. "All Done!" All that with no direction or reminders from me.

I am not sure I have seen this type of progression in any of my kids. Absolutely, it is wonderful for me to not have to hover. To not worry that her alone in the room will cause a cat to come out limping. To not wonder if we can go out in public without having to quickly leave. To have little concern that Little Guy is getting the brunt of the storm. To sleep through the night. Yes, it's lovely.

But more lovely is the child who has emerged. The one who smiles and tells everyone "hello". Who pets, feeds, and plays with cats. Who takes turns with Little Guy and makes him laugh. Who entertains us all with her dancing and singing to ballads on her favorite CD. Who walks around singing "Allelujah," "Happy Birthday!" and "I love you, so-and-so". Who sleeps through the night.

I loved you even when you were a storm, little Owl, but what fun it is to see you now!