The Happy Hermits

Ella and I have not left the house since January 1. This hermit-izing was not intentional. Chad worked long days this week and I was too lazy to wake up and drive him into town, so I didn't have the car. And it was entirely too cold to venture outside for any length of time. So we've been in the house for days, simply by accident.

In an effort to avoid complete mental atrophy we've been doing all kinds of fun new things. One day we taped five sheets of printer paper together, stretched it across the kitchen floor, and colored with Ella's fun new markers. Another day we stirred together some homemade play dough and spent a full hour cutting out different shapes and mashing the colors together. I've discovered that Ella really loves "doing" the dishes and would spend an entire morning at the sink if I'd let her. And we've developed a modified, toddler-friendly version of hide and seek where I leave my big butt hanging out so it's easier for her to find me.

As cliche as it is, I feel like my daughter is growing up so goddamn fast and this week allowed me the time to marvel at the little person she's becoming. She's independent and headstrong, and, like many toddlers, she rarely wants help getting things done. She listens to most of what I say very closely, and I can clearly see her taking it in and working out the meaning. She has this endearing way of coloring where she hovers over her marker and colors the tiniest little scribbly circles I've ever seen. And she's very fond of the color yellow, a fact that amazes me because I think yellow is yucky.

But the best part? I've caught glimpses of a gentle, loving little girl peeking through her tough toddler exterior. She's started to hug and kiss, and sometimes she takes my ponytail out to play with my hair. One morning I opened my eyes to see her gazing at me sweetly and sleepily, rubbing her little finger so softly along my cheek. I think it was the sweetest thing I've ever felt.