The Best and Brightest

When I was pregnant with my oldest daughter Ellie, I just knew I was carrying a perfect child.  She was going to be the best at everything.  A genius, yet humble being.  An all star athlete, but also a kind and down to earth friend to all.  She would shake up the world and it was only a matter of time before daytime talk show hosts were knocking down my door to have my child perform on their show.  I had my speeches prepared.

My little angel was about two years old when I received my first wake up call.  I had gone to the bank to set up a college account for her.  Ellie stood in front of the glass door making faces and completely charming the bank teller that was sitting in the office behind the glass door.  I called her over to my side and after signing a few papers the teller who was assisting me motioned for me to go into the back office to finish the registration process.  Upon realizing that we were going to be able to go to the back office, Ellie excitedly left my side and walked face first into the glass door.  Yup, the very glass door and she had spent a good five minutes standing in front of not moments ago.  It was then I realized that we may want to aim a little lower for her.

Now that my illusion of perfection had been shattered, I began to notice more and more instances that perhaps suggested that my little Einstein/ Mia Hamm was going to hit the mark a little short of my expectations.  Like the time that she spent the entire day walking around the house with a diaper on top of her head because as she puts it, "it looks like a swimming cap."  Or the time she stripped off all of her clothes while I was entertaining some friends and then enter the room yelling "look at me, I am nakey girl."  And of course it is very hard to overlook the fact that my future athlete spends most of the day tripping over her own two feet and crashing into various pieces of stationary furniture.  It was as if I was literally watching all of my dreams and ambitions for her slip away.

But despite the fact that Ellie does not fit into the cookie cutter mold I had envisioned for her before she was born, I would not change anything about her.  She may not be the best at following directions or paying attention, but she is pretty entertaining to listen to as she tries to come up with an explanation as to why she decided to color all over her baby sister with an orange marker.  And while the reality I had envisioned for her  is not longer realistic, I feel lucky to be able to be a part of the imaginary world she lives it.  I still secretly hope we will find the thing that she is perfect at and will be able to be successful with, but for now I will enjoy the fact that she is simply perfect at being a kid.