Spectrum

In downloading photos from our Thanksgiving stay-cation, I think these two photos sum up best Miss Stella’s range of personality.

Stella-isms... or Mommy-isms?

So when you're home with your daughter a lot... you might wonder, what is she really learning from me? I think I've touched on this before. Like my ability to teach her how to bake and cook, but my inability to think of amazing art projects or other active learning things. After spending four days with her at home, Steve also had some observations. (and as an aside, he had some awesome quality Daddy time. Stella was basically glued to his hip all weekend, which means that I got a little free time to do what I do best - cook. So for running around without barely sitting all weekend, he got butternut squash ravioli -homemade pasta dough no less- with sage brown butter sauce and prosciutto wrapped asparagus; Polish Golabki - stuffed cabbage rolls; mushroom barley soup; and an applesauce coffee cake for breakfast.)

But I digress. I guess I haven't realized some of my own speech patterns until 1) Stella begins to parrot them back to me and 2) Steve called attention to the fact that Stella was parroting them. Do I really say these all the time to her?

Okay. = This seems to be a big one, which usually follows a command. Momma, you do this, ok? It's pee-pee time, ok? Rabbit, you want dinner, ok?

Yeah. = Ugh - this seems even worse than ok, but it seems that I say this a lot when she's talking to me (which, of course, most of the day is non-stop). So this comes out from Stella as "Yeah... yeah.yeah.yeah." Stella do you want to go on the swing? "yeah. yeah/yeah/yeah" The subsequent "yeahs" are usually in varying pitch and tone.

That a good deal? = When did I say THIS to her? Probably when I tried to cajole her to get back into the stroller during our walks with Scupper, however, Stella uses it in the weirdest places. "We go to the beach in the van, Daddy?" Yes Stella. "That a good deal?" Yes Stella, that's a good deal (insert quizzical look from Steve to Aimee).

I missed my chance. = I can't even remember how she used it this weekend, but it was close to the concept... but a little off. I think I said this to her once or twice when she asked to do something, she didn't do it and then I was like, that's it. You missed your chance, I'm doing it. (This probably happens more than I recognize, since Stella is ALL ABOUT doing something HERSELF but that means it's on STELLA'S timing and not mine. Which can be problematic when say, getting dressed for preschool, coming in the house when it's getting dark, etc etc)

Oh, I sick. = I have been sick for a week - and then of course, the whole first trimester I wasn't in great shape most days. Stella invents mysterious aliments at appropriate times, say, when she doesn't want to eat dinner, when we aren't paying enough attention to her, etc. Besides the usual "I hurt my finger, I need a kitty band-aid" that we go through at least 4-5 times a week, "I sick" has been cropping up a lot lately. The remedy? An ice pack. Go figure.

She also has been using "two cent" words - sometimes appropriately - sometimes not. Disappointed, unstable, reflection, and frustrated have all popped up in the last month. And last week, she saw a recumbent bike on the bike path (those are the ones that are the low-slung, sit-down in a sit/laying position type of bike). I have pointed these out to her before and told her what they were. "Mama!" she exclaimed. "A 'cumbent. A 'cumbent." She looked up at me, waiting for the praise. I was stunned. Yes Stella. That IS a recumbent.

Seesters

So we found out today that we’re having another girl.

I’ll admit, completely honestly, that I thought we were having a boy. I’ve always thought that people end up having what they are supposed to have, sort of based on their personalities, etc. I know that sounds utterly stupid, but it has seemed to fit the people that I know. A woman I used to work with had two boys. It made complete sense. She was a lovely woman – very nice, nurturing, but just didn’t seem like the type of person that would handle a girl. Whatever that means. Then again, considering I don’t think I’m girly at all, Stella adores a pair of ballerina PJs that my mom gave and sparkle shoes that are hand-me-downs.

So when we knew we were having another kid, I just felt that we had to have a boy. Steve loves cars. Motorcycles. Bicycles. Boats. Vehicles that go. Mechanisms. Engineering. A boy right? He needs a boy to teach all of this to. And then I thought, holy cow! I’m a feminist! I would rather Stella be an engineer than an artsy-fartsy person like me. How could I think that Stella can’t learn from her daddy and enjoy all of that as much as he does? She picked up a screwdriver off the counter the other day (you know, b/c we just have them lying around) and started “fixing” things. She actually asked to go out to the van and “Fix Daddy’s van” for him so it was “fixed when he got home.” Wouldn't he love that…

So this morning, when the doctor asked one more time whether we’d like to know – and we said yes in unison, he said see? It’s a girl? Yeah right, like I can tell that black and white area right there is her genitals. Thanks doc. And I’ll admit, a wave of disappointment ran over me. And then a wave of guilt, for even thinking that I was disappointed about this little wee one growing in my belly. “She” has been more fiery than Stella ever was at this point – lots of punching and kicking, twisting and turning, constant movement, as if she were asking to be heard. While Stella’s in-utero nickname was “Speedy” she was more of a swimmer and mover, not a kicker and puncher.

A friend suggested they will be best friends. Or “Frenemies” and who knows? I’ll be honest, I don’t think my brother and I got along until he turned 18. We were definitely “friend-enemies” for quite some time. Since neither Steve nor I know what it’s like to have another sibling of the same sex, this will be interesting. Steve is elated no matter what though. And frankly, maybe we ARE meant to have two girls. Stella makes him smile with such joy sometimes I would think his heart would pop. And if Stella pushes my buttons like no other, god knows what it would be like with a boy. He did say that he will have to make sure that in the next house we live in, he had better have a man room so that he can escape the “estrogen levels” now and then. Ha. Just wait until I hit menopause.

Epic

Stella and I have returned from our amazing week at Grammy and Grampy Zs. It was a packed week – in addition to family from out to town visiting to see us Stella.

My mom out did herself with creature comforts for Stella to play with – she borrowed toys from friends and found some amazing deals at the local thrift stores. The big hit was a vinyl baby and jogging stroller that my mom proudly told me she found at Walgreens for $15. true to Stella’s nature (and probably a reflection of what we do with our real jogging stroller) she took it out in the yard on the first day and rode the baby around to see all the trees and flowers. My dad then had to suffer through the walk to the library with said stroller. The local library is literally a block away from the house, but I think the walk took us 20-30 minutes. It’s not about the destination, I kept telling my dad, but for the walk home, he picked Stella up and I carried the stroller.

We almost did all the things on their list – Dad made pancakes with Stella and planted tulip bulbs. Driving Stella around in the wheelbarrow might have been an added bonus, for Stella, of course.

 

My mom got to make pumpkin bread, read books upon books, paint, go to the various local playgrounds, and snuggle with her granddaughter.

I got to feel like an adult instead of “Mommy” all the time and stayed up late with my brother, went out for late night desserts at local restaurants, and didn’t have to worried about where Stella was 24-7 because I knew someone else was watching too.

I can’t say the whole week was roses and flowers – Stella was also pushing boundaries and limits, as the rules and routines at Grammy’s house were new and different and, obviously, were meant to be broken. There were days without naps, with said psycho child running around the house and throwing tantrums. We were all out at dinner one night – 11 of us – and just before the food got to the table, Stella climbed in my lap and boldly announced, “Okay. I all done. We go home now.” Luckily, the waiter keenly brought her food first and we were saved.

My favorite overheard moment of the week was in an interaction with my father:

Stella spills her dry cereal on the floor.

Dad: Stella, you need to pick that up now.

Stella: (beat) You have no doggie here?

My favorite picture moment of the week was Stella with her “shopping cart” in our local grocery store – the IGA where people still remember me as a little kid coming in to get Slush Puppies after school.

It was a good week, but I will be honest in saying that I’m happy to be back to our (relatively) normal routine here at home. Naps have been long and blissful and bedtime has been virtually without incident. Sadly, though, I hate that we are 3200 miles and 7 hrs of plane traveling time away from my family. Stella shines when around family. She did this summer when we visited Steve’s parents and extended family for a reunion up in NorCal at his aunt’s house. She did this past week too. I believe she positively glows around family. One of these years we need to figure out how to get a little closer… somehow.

Alive and well

Stella has a rich inner life right now. All of a sudden, in the course of what seems two weeks, imagination play has kicked into high gear. It’s not that she wasn’t into playing pretend (she’s been known to pick up random bags and tell me that she’s headed out to the store to buy nanas and cheese – always nanas and cheese for some reason, but whatever). She plays with her doll and her stuffed animals, talking to them, etc. But lately, a stick ends up becoming 100 things in the course of day. On Monday after her nap, she stripped down to her underwear, found a bandana and asked me to put it around her torso because she needed to be wearing a “bathing suit,” grabbed a stick that was found on a recent walk, climbed into a swing floatie (that woefully has not been forgotten and makes nightly appearances in the bathtub) and proceeded to “swim” across the floor. What’s the stick for, I asked. “It’s my surfboard.” Oh. Sure, of course.

Food lately has also become other things, or at least shaped like them. “Look, it’s a boot! It’s a snail! It’s a…. insert the favorite shape of the day.” I just nod and say, oh, and try to see the shape that she does before the piece of toast/pile of cereal/pancake/tortilla/scoop of rice gets shoved into her mouth.

The most embarrassing pretend moment lately was at the dog park this week. A nature preserve high above on the cliffs above the beach, the Douglass Preserve is gorgeous, full of tall trees, wood chip or dirt trails, and oh so wonderfully leash-free. Stella usually asks for her own poo bag when I pick up one for Scup as we enter the park because she likes to use it to put “Treasures” – leaves, small stones, sticks, flowers, etc. I have no problem with this. However, this week, Stella decided that she would pretend to pick up dog poo. So at the entrance to the park, she was down on the ground, picking up wood chips and saying, “See, Mommy, I pick up dog poo too.” Now, if you were just walking into the park with your dog and didn’t look closely and overheard my daughter, you might assume that I was letting her pick up dog poo. I kept saying, rather loudly as people walked by, oh Stella, that’s an interesting thing to pretend. Are you pretending to pick up dog poo? etc. etc. She then asked me to help flip the bag over her hand and pile of “poo” (woodchips) and then asked me to tie a knot… just like we do with Scupper. At first, I was like, ok, Stella, this has gone far enough. Dump out the wood chips and let’s just go. She yelled at me, “Don’t throw away my poo!” and proceeded to pretend again to pick up more poo. This time, I quickly knotted the bag and she happily carried it back to the car, singing, “I have a poo bag… I have a poo bag…”

I just kept thinking all week, this is what we get for 1) being theater people and 2) taking her to the dog park since the week she was born.

Oh, yes, and we also go “snorkeling” in the bathtub. Go figure.

Gratuitous Halloween photos

DIY Halloween at our house – these are our construction paper bats and coffee filter spider webs that adorned most of front windows. We also did little fabric ghosts in the trees. Stella was so enamored with her pumpkin once we gave it a little face that she named it “Little P” and started carrying it around the yard and giving it hugs.

We made spider web cupcakes… much to her enjoyment, but I think (luckily) she only ended up eating about 2 in the course of a week. Our neighbors got to enjoy most of them.

Steve’s parents gave her this National Park Ranger outfit this summer, after they heard how much she enjoyed camping. She has enjoyed playing dress up in it.

And this was Stella’s Halloween costume. She wore it to the costume parade at her preschool (back shot above) and then on Halloween night before we left to visit the neighbors, she refused to be photographed. Seriously, ran away into her bedroom. Then she found a walking stick that she had been playing with all week, and said I could take a picture of the stick. Not her costume. Thus, horse holding stick. At least the neighbor (whose horse she was emulating) enjoyed the costume.