To a little one who's two...

Dear Stella:

I'm pretty sure I said this last year, but your daddy and I are really amazed you are two. However, I have a feeling each birthday milestone, we will continue to be baffled that we have a girl and she keeps getting bigger and changing every day.

I think I realized this about 2 weeks ago when you were at the playground and started climbing up a part of the play structure that you've not been able to do before. You did it with ease (and of course, with me standing there wondering whether I was 1) a bad mother for letting you crawl up something that was obviously intended for older kids or 2) should be holding on to you so you didn't fall splat on your face.

Four months ago, you didn't say Mama, and now we can't get you to keep quiet. 5 words has turned into over 100 and you keep adding more each day, talking incessantly from morning until night, causing us to wonder why we wanted you to talk in the first place! My two favorite exchanges lately are "I poop. Mama poop? Dada poop? Scup poop?" and "Lela cute. Baby cute. Mama.... cute." Last night you stunned your father and I when you said "Chopstick?" asking if you could have a set as well while we ate our stir-fry with them. Seriously? When did you learn that word? I think everything has been up there for awhile, and now you have discovered the tools in which to unlock the torrent of words stored in your brain.

Your ability to accessorize makes us laugh to no end... hats, tutus.. .and then sometimes your refusal to wear anything at all. I guess you are still allowed at this age to go streaking across the front lawn. You also are quite addicted to soft friends - whether it's your baby, which now is a usual part of your day (in the swing, at the dinner table, in the stroller), the ever-present "Pup," or the assorted monkey friends that your great aunt and uncle have given you. I have to take out at least 3-4 friends out of your crib at night when you go to sleep just so you have room yourself.

You love being outside, so much so in fact that you're ready to go out there with nothing but at diaper at 7am. You are fascinated with water, still, as always, and I think I'm just going to have to be okay with the fact that about every pair of your pants are stained with our deep rich Santa Barbara mud. You love visiting our neighborhood horses, chickens and goats, and the tide pools at the beach fascinate you for hours, much to the chagrin of your dog who only wants to run and chase tennis balls.

I won't say that every day with you right now is blissful - you are certainly pushing boundaries, say the word "NO!" quite emphatically, and melt into a puddle of tears and kicking if you don't like what we have in store for you. Luckily, you are also easily distracted and I've gotten pretty good at figuring out how to snap you out of these fits. I appreciate your fearlessness and independence, but it doesn't mean that some days, it's not a struggle. I have also learned let go a little and realize that I can just have you do what I want when I want it, and likewise, sometimes you  just have to be strapped in your car seat, taken away from the temptation of eating Scupper's dog food, and taken out of the swing after endless pushing.

That being said, you make your daddy and I laugh out loud at your spirit, your laughter, and the joy in which you experience the world.

Happy birthday little girl. May our memories of you being two live on always in our heart.

Accessories...

Does a new found love of accessories solidify the fact that your child is a girl? Or (gasp) is it because her parents are in theater? You be the judge...

 "genie" pants from thailand and a scarf from vietnam - compliments of uncle Mike

 my friend Ali picked up a few skirts at the thrift store after Halloween this year... she said Stella needed a dress up box. How right she was...

as my mom said of this picture, "nothing like going topless in a tutu at 7:30am" yep. wish we all could be so free, eh?

Of Aging Hippies and Drool Bubbles

Two funny Stella stories for the week:

Last week was "spring break" at Stella's preschool, which for us, since we do not have any other school-aged children, means a week home with Mommy all the time where Mommy desperately hopes that she won't go insane without a break from toddler and dog from 8:30am to 7pm at night. (I can happily say that we actually had a fabulous week, which either means two things: I have finally begun to appreciate and relish in being a stay at home mom OR I am starting to go steadily insane.)

Either way, I decided to schedule a few outing for the week, since Stella gets so much great art/music/dance at her school during the week. On Wednesday, our local library noted they were having a "dance troupe" do a free performance for kids. Great! We're there. We show up to a room filled with preschoolers, moms, and this WACKY lady wearing an old black leotard and leggings, covered with a homemade skirt out of interlocking scarves. Oh yes. Behind her are 5 kids, aged 3ish - 10, girls wearing leotards and the same type of scarf/skirt, boys wearing flowing scarf shirts. She puts in a CASSETTE TAPE and introduces herself as Arlene... but not just, "Hi, I'm Arlene," but rather, "Hi, I'm Arlene" to movement. Big, expressive, gestures with lots of arms and legs jutting out... very modern-dancey, and totally reminding me of my crazy movement training back in my undergrad theater training. She lets us know that she runs a dance school that encourages movement-based expression, not strict technique, and that the children and her are going to show us a few things... I'm totally getting this - and sadly, some of the other parents are looking at her like she has 3 heads.

She puts on another CASSETTE TAPE and they do the "color dance" - where their bodies evoke the color that she yells out.... then the lollipop dance... and the roar like a lion dance... I'm just giggling to myself, noticing that the kids up there are loving it, and also giggling at the conservative parents that thought they were being treated to some ballet thing. Stella, who's now not seated next to me on the carpet square, but has taken off her shoes (like the dancers) and is FOLLOWING EVERY MOVEMENT along with the dancers. She's reaching to the sky, making circles with her arms, balancing on one leg while holding my shoulder, etc. She's totally into this.

Arlene asks for children to come up and  - no joke - do a scarf dance to Puff the Magic Dragon. Stella looks at me, and I'm like, go for it girlie. She goes up to Arlene to get a scarf too, and Arlene looks at her and says, "Oh, I think you're too young" and Stella's face falls. She notices it and quickly counters, "Ok, you can have a scarf, but just don't put it in your mouth." Stella looks at her like, basically, saying, Um, I don't do that anymore, and begins to try to mimic all the movements of the Puff the Magic Scarf dance. Now don't get me wrong, she's about 3-4 moves behind, but she's having a blast. Yeah, Arlene's dance school seems a little low-rent, but I'm  all for no tutus and some "creative movement expression."

As Stella dances away, I feel a little tap on my shoulder, and a woman behind me whispers, "Lady, watching your daughter is making this whole thing worth it." And, scene.

 (Stella also isn't into wearing much on her body these days. We're lucky when we get shirts AND pants on her at the same time. She does, however, enjoy accessorizing.)

*********************
Stella also has been obsessed with bubbles. After our amazing visit from Auntie Lee-Lee and Gruncle (my aunt Liza and Uncle Chuck... gruncle, you say? great-uncle ;) where they gave her some bubbles to play with, Stella has been obsessed with finding bubbles anywhere. You know, in the puddles in the park, in her milk glass, in the bath tub... Yesterday, at this amazing dog park/open-space preserve overlooking the ocean, Stella was climbing on some logs while Scupper played with another dog. I spoke with the owner a moment about what mix of breeds their dogs were, and Stella came over, looking for puppy licks and a pet. The older dog of the two was hanging out in the sun, and Stella walked over, pointed out the large bubble of spit that had formed at the dog's mouth. "Bubble!" she yelled. "Yes, Stella, that's a bubble of drool." And just with that, she walked calmly over to the dog and popped the bubble. Drool exploded all over her hand. She looked at it, wiped it off on her pants, and walked down the trail.

(Stella also is obsessed with Steve's bike and accompanying paraphernalia. I am hoping that the vintage tricycle that he is refinishing is done in time for her upcoming birthday...)