Oh, my middle child.
I adore her. I adore all three of my kids, of course, but each in her own special way. Before I even had Olivia, I wanted a girl named Isabelle that I could call Izzy. The name was vetoed for Olivia, obviously, but I got my way the second time. Only because my husband was dead set against Anabelle Lee (after the Poe poem) and I was a very angry pregnant woman with her. He would have let me name her anything else to keep me happy.
So, there's my Izzy.
And she totally embodies the nickname to me. It's a wild and crazy sounding name and she's very wild and crazy. She's my little tomboy princess, out playing in the mud in ruffles. You can bet that if I'm ready to pull my hair out at the end of the day, she's why. She has a quick temper and she can be really mean to her sisters, and she loves to destroy things. But she's extremely funny and so unique. She reminds me a lot of myself. Except the temper part, that's her Daddy. =)
But there's an entire other side to her that she doesn't show as much at home. She's a very different child at school. At my first conference this year with her teacher, she just gushed over how sweet Isabelle is and how everyone loves her. She's friends with everyone and will go out of her way to make someone feel better if they get hurt, or are nervous, or feeling left out. I catch little bits and pieces of that at home, but not much.
Yesterday, we had another conference. Her teacher kept calling her "Belle." I asked Isabelle if everyone at school calls her that and she said that they do. It just seems so odd to me. "Belle" makes me think of some sweet, pink-frosted angel, not my Izzy.
I guess, though, it does fit her there. I'm glad she's a big sweetheart at school, and there are times I wish she'd bring some of it home, but I'm rather fond of my Izzy. Mud and all.