Happy Fourth!

May you have as much today as Stella is... and hey, ANY day in the Van is a good day...

The requisite "pasta" picture...

So for some reason Stella doesn't like regular pasta. We've tried. And since noodles have been my favorite food since i can remember, I sometimes wonder if she's actually my daughter. Butter and Parmesan or tomato sauce or plain or with creamy cheese... nothing.

Until now. But of course, being our daughter, she will eat OTHER kinds of noodles. Like bean thread with peanut sauce. Or tonight, stir-fry soba noodles with ginger soy dressing. Yup. She's our daughter.

So you think Stella can dance...

Stella is walking full on. Like everywhere. (God help Scupper... she sneaks up behind him and grabs his tail...) She also has hit her noggin like everyday. She has about 3 goose-egg bruises up there right now. Poor girl. The language acquisition is going slower (and of course, I'm being that neurotic mom that is slightly worried...) She "talks" up a storm, but we can't understand a darn thing, save for "dog," "doggie," a derivation of what we think is "monkey" and "nana" for about any fruit that she can see in the fruit bowl. Oh, and "whoa" and "hi" which crack us up. "Whoa" she learned from the other girl I babysit from time to time. It's pretty funny.

And even more funny? This little clip of Stella doing her infamous shoulder roll. My friend grace who teaches a hip-hop dance class wondered who taught it to her. Certainly wasn't me!



In other news, Steve came up with an idea last night. Train for a triathlon to give me a goal with my working out.

Eek. Part of me is REALLY psyched about it. and the other part of me is scared as hell. I hate running. Let me repeat I HATE RUNNING. But swimming and biking, no problem. It's 500meter swim (equivalent to 20 (25 m) laps in a pool), 12 mile bike, and a 3 mile run. I can do that, right? Late September? Right? Right?

Say Goodnight Gracie... good night.

At 6am this morning, I offered my daughter a sippy cup of cow's milk. Whole milk. Full Fat. Organic. For all intents and purposes, pretty good stuff. But from a mommy cow. Not a mommy me.

After 14 months (and almost to the day), I decided today was the day that Stella wasn't going to have any more boobies. We have been weaning for a month or two now. First the day ones were slowly going away, at first being replaced by formula, and then when she was a year old, milk. Then, because I was teaching one night a week and Steve was doing the nighttime routine anyway, I figured the evening one was easier to stop. All of this without much of a fuss (although she does have the habit of occasionally pulling open the top of my shirt, peering in, checking them out, and closing my shirt. Yes, Stella, they are still there).

But the morning one... oh the morning time. Just me and her. 6am. Half-awake, half-asleep. More for comfort on her part than anything else, and me not stopping it sooner because it was just easier not to. I think though, this morning, I decided I was going to be selfish. I made the decision to take my boobies back.

She was a little fussy, and bit confused. What? A sippy cup? Seriously? No way. Oh - yes, Mommy, those birds outside the window are MIGHTY interesting. So is that book. And yes, so is that monkey. What? Sippy cup? Sure.

I guess it was easier than I thought. And as I sat in our rocker and watched Stella toddle around her bedroom (oh did i mention she's walking finally?) I got a tear in my eye. That's it. She's definitely not a baby anymore.

I feel good though. I made a commitment. I said I'd do it a year. I'm not saying the year was easy.
I might be smiling, but those are REALLY TIRED eyes. I wish I had given in to formula a little earlier. I think I wouldn't have been freaking out all those late night and worrying that I wasn't going to be able to pump enough to feed her the next day when I had to teach class. At 9 months, I finally was able to get her to drink it so that I could go away for 3 days to interview for job, and I'm amazed I didn't try to offer it sooner. Not that I would have stopped breastfeeding, but that the pressure of making sure there was always something in the house would have not been there. ('Cause ya'll - pumping is not up there among my favorite things...) I do wish that our culture wasn't so "breast is best" crazy that it exceeds the fact that "food is best" and that means whatever works for you and your child. But that's neither here nor there....

I said I would breastfeed a year. And I did. I'm not judging those who choose to do it less (or not at all) or do it longer, but I am proud of us that we did it for this long. Because it was "us." And as hard as it was to look at her little body this morning,thoroughly engrossed in a book, slightly oblivious to me watching her with a little tear in my eye, I know that we're ready to delve into whatever the next chapter will take us. She's turning into quite an amazing little person.

Now we just have to work on that whole "stuffing the hand down the shirt to check and make sure the boobies are still there" sort of thing... Although I guess it's always been a habit, eh?

Spoiled by the Delaware Grandparents...

Stella LOVED hanging out with Grampy.

And her borrowed truck, courtesy of Alex (age 27!)

Thank you Rochelle and Josh for my awesome hat - I do believe I'm pretty cute in it!

Grammy found me the most awesome $2 yard sale item EVER

And then I had to take a real bath...

because I love trying to feed myself yogurt.

Bird!

Thinking very hard about the peony (notice that tongue!)

Dog? Check. Kid? Check. Dissertation? Check.

Okay, not exactly done. A few edits... and I'm sure revisions from the committee, but at this stage in the game, they don't make you change vast quantities, right?

Done = good, or so I've been told.

Tips for Flying with a Toddler

Stella and I just returned from 10 days with my parents. WOOHOO. We both were spoiled and pampered by my 'rents (and more pictures from her awesome vacation are to follow. I did not do much of anything save for write my dissertation). But I do want to share some tips I learned from 16 hours of air travel.

1. MYTH: Sitting in the back of the plane usually means that you will get an extra seat open in your row so your lap child can sit there. REALITY: sitting in the back of the plane is loud, but you may be placed next to other families that have small kids. This can be a boon - especially when those kids are (literally!) all the same age range as your kid. And this might mean that for a 4 hour leg of your 6 hour journey in the air, the kid across the aisle will have a DVD player and your kid will happily watch it because she has really never seen TV. Or watch the other kid blow tiny bubbles. Or sing her songs. Or share her crackers. Or the mom sitting next to you will hold your daughter while you pee, and have her son next to her sing songs and play peek-a-boo with your kid. And the maybe becuase of the noise, your kid will sleep a wonderful and peaceful 50 minute nap. And you will get off the plane thinking that was the best flight ever, and know deep in your heart that NONE Of the other legs of the trip will be like that. EVER.

2. Do not have your parents encourage your daughter to walk by holding your hands so that when you try to get on the plane home, all she will want to do is not sit in your lap and walk up and down the aisles.

3. Analyze the steward staff for sympathetic grandmas, moms or dads. You might get lucky on one leg of the trip and they will wistfully play with your kid because they want grandkids from their daughters. Otherwise, most of them are angry, bitter, over-worked women who have no patience for the fact that your kid only wants to sit in the middle of the aisle with her stuffed toy, and even though the drink cart is NO WHERE NEAR where your kid is, they will tell you she is going to get run over.

4. Your kids usual toys are boring and are not as fun as crawling under the seats, up the aisle, or the purse with shiny buckles under the seat of the lady across the aisle.

5. Starbucks straws last about 15 minutes. That's pretty awesome.

5a. Starbucks straws trying to pick up the lid of the sippy cup bottle makes your kid laugh like nobody's business for another 15 minutes, even if the cup lid gets thrown off the straw all over the place. 15 minutes of laughing is awesome.

6. Playing in the water basin in the bathroom lasts another 15 minutes. Oh yes. This is great.

7. Playing in the water in Mommy's Nalgene is also a fun activity because (hopefully) your kid's hands and arms fit perfectly through the wide-mouth bottle and into about 12 ounces of water just waiting to be splashed around.

8. Books that you've read a 100 times are boring. But ripping up Sky Mall is pretty neat.

9. On American Airlines, the seat cushion is attached with Velcro. Velcro is awesome.

10. Almost 14 month olds with an extreme oral fixation may not be the best candidates for crayons yet. Just saying...

11. Socks make awesome puppets. So do barf bags.

12. Hiding small stuffed toys up pant legs, shirts, and sleeves also make for 15 minutes of hilarity.

13. Hope that the people sitting behind you love playing peek-a-boo. A lot.

And that concludes most the things I learned. I also learned that we might not be flying with Stella again any time soon if we can help it.