Adored

Everybody needs a LaLa.

Her name is not really LaLa, of course, it’s Bethany, but her Chinese name is Hou Le (happy) and it just seems right to call her La or LaLa. And happy she is, into everything and very busy in her little two-year old explorations of the world. La is my sister Maile and her husband Tim’s fourth child, adopted last year from China.

For some reason that puzzles everyone (though I can’t quite understand why folks are so surprised), my little two year old niece LaLa adores me.

Adores.

And this is not just my own personal opinion. All of LaLa’s dollies are named Amy and she’s totally and utterly convinced that any present she receives comes from Amy. This is perfectly fine with me, of course. I love being adored.

LaLa came to visit this week, as you know if you read my recent post about my sister’s visit, so I got a chance to think about why it is she makes me happy. There are many things about LaLa that warm my heart, one of which is the fact that I am an adoptive parent myself so I know the special, miraculous connection you feel to a child who seems to have dropped straight from heaven into your heart.

In her favor is also the fact that La is totally cute.

But I cannot lie that one of the best things of all about my little niece is the miraculous way she seems to think I hung the moon (or at the very least invented Cheerios). She spent the last few days at my house following me around and exclaiming, “Love you, Amy!” at various unpredictable intervals, running up to me for hugs or snuggling up with a book on the couch right next to me.

Our family is full of spunky girls who seem to take life by the horns. LaLa is no exception, and all the promise I see in her little face gives me hope for the future of this planet we live on. But, I have to say, the thing I love the most about her is how much she adores me. She doesn’t know yet, of course, that sometimes I am not totally and completely adorable.

Until she discovers this, however, I fully intend to enjoy being adored.