moody. {Project 52}

This is our Ella. She's six.

Going on sixteen.

She has been a wonder to us from the moment she arrived on the scene.

It's a girl!

{Cue sheer delight + a shock I couldn't shake for weeks.}

She slept for two weeks, seemingly to gather up her strength, and then she cried for the next twelve, on the dot, just like the books said.

You watch, she'll be a sunny toddler, my mom predicted. My tired, achy self, fighting my way through the foggy first months of a colic-infused, newborn stupor desperately wanted to believe her.

She was right.

From four months on, Ella has been nothing but pure sunshine and joy.

And now she's six. Let's just say she's entering a moody stage.

She's a wonderful mix of sassy and sweet. Independent but still a little girl. A fireball of energy but so, so desperately could use a nap most days (we both blame this on the state-mandated, all-day, every day Kindergarten).

She picks her own outfits out each morning. I bite my tongue while she rocks the sweatpants + sweater cardigan look.

She tells me in a withering tone that our house is so boring. I try not to laugh out loud at her dramatic tone.

She makes her case for watching the "big people" shows on the Disney channel marketed towards tweens. Matt and I hold our ground. (In other news, we have officially become our parents...and we're OK with it.)

She laughs hysterically one moment, cries hysterically the next.

Loves on her siblings this minute, becomes the chief instigator soon after.

Snuggles in to us for a few seconds, slams the door later on.

She's growing up and the wild mood swings are par for the course.

Moody or not, more than anything, she is a kind, smart, brave, determined feisty little girl and we wouldn't have her any other way.

I remind myself to give her extra grace because she has always been so easy-going, so carefree -- I don't want to force her to play a role her entire life where she's always compliant, always happy, never mad.

I remind myself that she is so, so different from me and different isn't a bad thing -- it's not something be feared, but rather something to be embraced.

I remind myself that her moods will vary drastically in the coming years, and my job as her mama is to provide a safe place for her to land each and every time she levels out and her feet hit the ground again.

After all, we're all entitled to a few ups and downs, wouldn't you agree?