This One



This one.  My first born.  She's always been an intense child.  Not intense in a bad way, intense in a  I don't know how to cope way.  She spends the entire day at school and is happy.  She loves her friends and she loves her teachers.  She especially loves the bus ride.  But when she steps foot into the car at pick-up, all hell breaks loose.  She. Is. Done.  Drained. She has spent the entire day in the presence of others, and she has enjoyed it, and it has drained her.  Nothing has refueled her.  And nothing will.  Until she retreats up to her room to decompress.  Yes, I have birthed yet another fine introvert. You're welcome world.

I think as expectant parents, we often envision our children doing the same things we like. Oh that one is gonna be such a good artist, just like her Daddy.  That one is gonna be such a good little ball player like his Daddy.  This one is so lucky because her Momma will teach her to play beautiful piano.  I had the same thoughts too.  Then I had two kids and know what?  They are them.  They are not me.   I can try and I can even push but I cannot make them who they aren't.

Today Isis turns seven years old.  Each day there seems to be a little less child in her.  Her questions have turned from figuring out the world, to questions about how people exist within this world that seems to make more sense to her now.  She knows the ins and outs, but is in search of the individuals who make it up.

Before I tell you who Isis is, let me tell you who she is not.  She is not a pianist.  She is not a ball player.  She is not interested in chaotic playdates with several children.  She is not interested in team sports.  She is not even keeled. She isn't a leader among her friends.  She doesn't need constant entertainment.  She doesn't need toys. She isn't extremely confident. She isn't comfortable in a lot of situations.  She doesn't have endless energy.  She may try, but her fuse runs out.



Now let me tell you who she is.  She is an artist. She is a dancer and a mover. She is a singer.  I can't even tell you how many songs she has memorized.  She is a talker.   She will go to birthday parties and visit with the grandparents instead of playing with the children.  She loves her friends and prefers one on one time with them.  Three can be a crowd for her. She likes meaningful interactions. She reads how people are feeling.  She is perceptive. She is either extremely loud or extremely withdrawn. She is very self conscious. She's an observer.  She misconstrues a lot of social situations.  She is easily annoyed. (some traits do carry through the gene pool)  She is an actress and loves drama.  She is crazy, but only when she is comfortable.  She is on the outside when she isn't sure and is smack in the middle when she is sure.  She loves theater, plays and musicals.  I've sometimes wondered why such a shy child is so drawn to something that puts people up front.  Then I remembered myself.  How I am just like her in most social situations, but put me in front of a class of kids, and game on.

She is an entertainer.  At the age of three she was John Fogerty.  By four she was Elton John.  Shortly after that came Joni Mitchell and Kris Kristofferson.  By five she was Bob Dylan and The Band.  At six she became Old Crow Medicine Show.  Now at seven, she is Julie Andrews, Carol Burnett, Gilda Radner, Jack Johnson, Jimmy Buffet, The Lumineers, Levon Helm, Driveby Truckers, Paul Simon, Edward Sharpe, Jack White, and Josh Ritter.  She is Annie, The Sound of Music, Frozen, and Mary Poppins.  She is the first three seasons of the Muppet Show.  She is an entire country music station thanks to her bus driver.  I'm hoping soon she becomes Queen.  She really wants to be Alice Cooper, but slow down there little girl.  It's a big world and even this Mama has some limits.  There's plenty of time for Alice Cooper. 

For her party this year she wanted a guitar cake.  I cringed at the thought but now I see how fitting it really is.  She connects with it and connects to it and it somehow follows her everywhere.  It is her. And when that big world of commotion and uncertainty sucks the energy out of her, she sits back and tunes in. Isis oh Isis you mystical child...