Little Human

For months now, E's main goal has been destruction. No folded t-shirt is safe, no tidy bin of toys, no upright box of Minute Rice.

The lazy susan is always spinning, socks being taken off. Every time I show her how to put together a puzzle, after I look at her with pride and satisfaction with my accomplishment, she claps then quickly pulls it apart.

Three stories into a block tower, and our baby Godzilla saves us the trouble of finishing it by kicking it over.

Though I'm a firm believer in the creativity of destruction, I have to admit I've been expectantly waiting for a sign of creation, a glimpse of her inner architect, graphic designer, or sculptor.

Then, yesterday, it happened! She took a break from opening our mail to play with her blocks. What caught my attention was how quiet she was...

I turned around in time to see her very carefully (with both hands) set a bouncy ball on top of a cylindrical, hollow block to make a little tower.

My heart stopped. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. It was vertically symmetrical yet the height of the cylinder elongated the design, a lovely gift of horizontal asymmetry. And the color choice! A glowing ball of vintage yellow atop a dark purple cylinder. It was modern yet traditional... A perfect balance of old and new -- a tiny tower of order in a chaotic wasteland.

"Ellie!!!" I gasped. "Look what you made!!" I rushed to her side and praised her stacking skills with an almost violent level of enthusiasm.

She smiled proudly then crawled into the dining room to eat a pea off of the floor.

My little starving artist! My little human.