She is walking. We are beginning week 3 of walking more than crawling. Zora is officially a walker and I’m so proud of her.
In fact, for the first time in her life, we aren’t playing catch-up.
She isn’t “fighting.”
She is walking. She is trying to babble up a storm (at least 12 words now and many others that ‘I understand.’ She is using a spoon and fork….in fact, today, for the first time, I put milk on her cereal and let her eat it…and she did, without a mess!
She is even advanced. You heard me. Advanced. In one category. Drawing. She holds the pen/ crayon/ marker/ pencil/ whatever correctly and even tries to color in the lines. This is amazing to me. Several people have pointed her ability out to me at this point…one of those people even being a teacher for developmentally challenged children. Zora is operating at least a year, if not 2 years, ahead for her age…in this particular category.
And you know what? The night before the first person pointed out her ‘talent’ to me (which I just thought ,”hey, she is a kid and loves to color” – completely blind to my own child’s ability), I learned that her birth dad is an artist. Not just scribbles on occasion, but that he is a paid artist…. (I won’t go into details here for privacy’s sake…but let’s just say I have a picture of something he has artistically done saved for Zora to have one day….)
While we aren’t swimming in winter, she takes full advantage of bath time and submerges entirely…head included…whenever I ask her if she ‘wants to swim.’ Between her being uncharacteristically fearless of swimming (unlike my other 2 were at this age….and one continues to be afraid) and her knack for drawing, I must say it is amazing to witness my daughter breaking down the walls she has had in her way and simply declaring: Enough.
We have reached the toddler stage of: “I do it myself.” Not for all things…but for some things (praise God it isn’t for all things yet…oh goodness, perhaps the least favorite stage for mothers everywhere!). And while that can be….unimaginably frustrating….I can’t help but sit back and watch her sometimes do things ‘by herself’ with what I’m sure is a cheesy, big-ol-grin on my face.
My Zora is growing up. She is needing me less and less. And while that probably sounds sad when read through a blogger’s eyes, I don’t mean it as sad at all. She has fought so much of her life. And now she is simply developing as if all of that hardship wasn’t ever there…in spite of it being woven into her story.
Once upon a car ride, I heard someone call into the radio and say something along these lines regarding her own life: “You can be the definition of your story, or you can define your story.”
I’m so glad I had the radio on when that caller was on the air. It hit me and I won’t soon forget it.
I’m watching my girl define her story. Defying the assumptions I had been guilty of making surrounding her.
In this case, I will take her defying me and will love every bit of that defiance.
God’s grace in her life continually blossoms before my very eyes and it.is.such.a.gift.to.witness.