She also thinks that hot pads make awesome slippers. Go figure.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
On her own terms...
Stella has been "diagnosed" with an Expressive Language delay. We are into week 2 of speech therapy - and luckily, it is all being arranged and covered by a state agency located here in SB. It seems that she was above her age range in the other development tests - motor skills, cognition - and even "receptive language" - i.e. she understands just about everything. She just doesn't/can't put it into words. However, since her first evaluation, she's definitely been getting better. This past week, she finally began to say "Mama" with the intent of calling or naming me... whereas before it was merely a moniker without a home. I think it's pretty damn cool. (I'm sure this will wear off soon after the ump-teenth "Mama" when she's in need of something). Yesterday, during her session, she refused to say "moo" or "cow" and instead began hiding under a blanket and playing peek-a-boo. I don't envy our therapist. She kept trying to elicit responses from Stella for various objects to no avail. Stella rolled around in my lap and ignored her. When the therapist assume Stella's attention was just gone for the day, Stella turned to my shirt - and pointed to the various colored origami shapes and started saying "Lellow." "Bue." "Pink." "Geen." The therapist looked at me astonished (and frankly, I was too because she was 1) talking understandably and 2) getting the colors right.) She then suggested that Stella will have to come to speech therapy on her "own terms" and we'll just have to keep inventing new ways of making it fun for her. Otherwise, she just decides that it's not worth it, and won't talk. Ah, our little independent girl.
She also thinks that hot pads make awesome slippers. Go figure.
She also thinks that hot pads make awesome slippers. Go figure.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Raindrops on roses...
As much as I may complain (maybe not on the blog, but at least to my poor mother) about how tough these toddler times are right now (really? can she really push my buttons that much??) Stella, when she's happy, is a joy. I need to learn a few lessons from the way she interacts with the world around her. Gusto. That's the best word to describe it. Gusto.
Some of her favorite things right now...
- reading. Sitting and reading books - and longer books too. Overnight it seemed we went from Miss Itchy pants if the book was longer than 5 minutes to long stories. Thank goodness for the local library because I was getting pretty sick of the pile that we have, even though my mother keeps us well stocked in the book department. (I am going to feel bad if and when my brother ever has kids because Stella sure has gotten quite a few of Mrs. Z's awesome kindergarten books).
- spinning. You know - spinning until you start to walk fun and might just fall down? Spinning is pretty fun this house right now.
- singing. Everything is a song - I can't understand the words, but Stella sure likes singing. (see below post and the "ode to pizza dough" she does in the middle). My mother kept doing the hand motions to Wheels on the Bus and Monkeys on the bed while she was here, and now those are standbys. She rolls her arms around in a circle and it usually means I had better start singing Wheels on the Bus or there might be trouble. (Did you know that there was a verse, compliments of Steve, that starts with "the oil pump on the bus goes squirt, squirt, squirt.." Nope, I didn't either, but now it's part of our song).
- cooking and dishes. Stella has gotten pretty bossy in the kitchen, actually. She demanded to be taught how to crack eggs for a cake I made this weekend and she did pretty good, actually. In fact, whenver I go to even cut cheese, she grabs for the stool that she stands on to "help" and gets pissy if i don't let her up to see what's going on. After we cook, I can always get her to help me with the dishes, which usually involves her filling up clean cups, measuring spoons, and the like with the dishwater and either actually pouring it back in the sink, or down the front of her shirt. But hey, that's better than playing in the dog's water bowl, which is a close second to doing the dishes. Maybe she'll be a marine biologist? Or a deep sea diver...
- school. Literally, she's been there 3 times now and she's so excited about going. She squealed in utter delight when we rolled into the parking lot. I think she also enjoys carrying her own lunch box. She thinks that's pretty darn cool.
- hikes. If she could say "outside" yet, i think it might be her favorite word. Instead, she grabs at the front door handle with all of her might, hoping she can twist it enough to get it open. This week we hunted for frogs in the woods, played in tide pools at the beach, and watched the gophers shove their cheeks with grass at the dog park. (A big favorite). Steve was able to snap this rare photo of us (rare, because I"m usually behind the camera) in the fading sunset outside the butterfly preserve. I can't complain though. In fact, I guess I'm pretty lucky to have such an adventurous little girl.
Some of her favorite things right now...
- reading. Sitting and reading books - and longer books too. Overnight it seemed we went from Miss Itchy pants if the book was longer than 5 minutes to long stories. Thank goodness for the local library because I was getting pretty sick of the pile that we have, even though my mother keeps us well stocked in the book department. (I am going to feel bad if and when my brother ever has kids because Stella sure has gotten quite a few of Mrs. Z's awesome kindergarten books).
- spinning. You know - spinning until you start to walk fun and might just fall down? Spinning is pretty fun this house right now.
- singing. Everything is a song - I can't understand the words, but Stella sure likes singing. (see below post and the "ode to pizza dough" she does in the middle). My mother kept doing the hand motions to Wheels on the Bus and Monkeys on the bed while she was here, and now those are standbys. She rolls her arms around in a circle and it usually means I had better start singing Wheels on the Bus or there might be trouble. (Did you know that there was a verse, compliments of Steve, that starts with "the oil pump on the bus goes squirt, squirt, squirt.." Nope, I didn't either, but now it's part of our song).
- cooking and dishes. Stella has gotten pretty bossy in the kitchen, actually. She demanded to be taught how to crack eggs for a cake I made this weekend and she did pretty good, actually. In fact, whenver I go to even cut cheese, she grabs for the stool that she stands on to "help" and gets pissy if i don't let her up to see what's going on. After we cook, I can always get her to help me with the dishes, which usually involves her filling up clean cups, measuring spoons, and the like with the dishwater and either actually pouring it back in the sink, or down the front of her shirt. But hey, that's better than playing in the dog's water bowl, which is a close second to doing the dishes. Maybe she'll be a marine biologist? Or a deep sea diver...
- hikes. If she could say "outside" yet, i think it might be her favorite word. Instead, she grabs at the front door handle with all of her might, hoping she can twist it enough to get it open. This week we hunted for frogs in the woods, played in tide pools at the beach, and watched the gophers shove their cheeks with grass at the dog park. (A big favorite). Steve was able to snap this rare photo of us (rare, because I"m usually behind the camera) in the fading sunset outside the butterfly preserve. I can't complain though. In fact, I guess I'm pretty lucky to have such an adventurous little girl.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Growing up too fast
Next Tuesday, Stella starts at a local preschool 3 mornings a week. Okay, it's sort of a preschool and probably more of a daycare at her age, but nonetheless, I ran around Santa Barbara for two weeks looking at different places. We started a month ago with a babysitter at the home two mornings a week so this Momma here could write an article that she is WAY BEHIND on, and after the first week, I realized that 1) a local preschool was actually cheaper than an in-home babysitter and 2) Stella lights up when she interacts with other children, whether at the local playground, the beach, the dog park, etc. So partly motivated by my scant pocketbook, but mostly by Stella's need to socialize, I found a place that is within walking (or biking) distance to place her for a few mornings a week.
And then I freaked out that my baby girl was growing up.
I think what really made me realize that she was now a "big girl" and "going to school" was the need to purchase a lunch bag and small tupperware containers for her lunch. A lunch box? Already? (It's pretty cute, though, isn't it?)
This week we went a few mornings for a "Trial run." I stayed with her for the first day, disappeared for an hour the next day, and tomorrow, she is dropped off for the entire time, with me "on call" in case she melts down. The first day, she never looked back - just hopped into the sandbox with the other children, following them inside for quiet play and snacks, happily grabbed for paint brushes and pipe cleaners, and the like. The second day when I actually tried to leave, it was a little harder, with her wrapping her legs around my middle, crying big tears. (which, i was told, stopped in about 2 minutes after I left). Why do kids make it so hard on us parents? I walked to the local coffee shop with my research, feeling the largest hunk of guilt settling uneasily in my stomach. Steve wondered aloud at dinner last night if she's ready to be "institutionalized" - I asked him what he meant. "Oh, you know, learning to all line up, follow the leader, sitting down to lunch with a group of kids, taking directives... you know, the beginnings of institutionalization." Oh dear, it is as if we live in Communist state or something!
But in some ways, I hear his thoughts. I wonder how my free-spirit, my independent, stubborn, excitable daughter will act each day with a larger group of children. I wonder will she have as much passion for activities or will she stand back and watch? We are all different people in the comfort of our families versus in the company of others.
As I start to label her outside fleece, consider what the heck I'm going to pack in the lunch box, and plan my research agenda for the next few weeks, I want to hold all these moments, these precious toddler moments, in my head, and hope that in 20 years, I don't forget how great this time, being almost two. Sure, she exhausts me like hell, but I think I do secretly love (al)most every minute of it. Maybe this, this feeling, is why people want to have another kid. Not to deal with the terrible twos all over again, but to feel the wonderful twos all over again.
7:20 am, baby in stroller, with a bubble wrap package on her head, all of her own devising. Yep. That's our silly little gal.
And then I freaked out that my baby girl was growing up.
I think what really made me realize that she was now a "big girl" and "going to school" was the need to purchase a lunch bag and small tupperware containers for her lunch. A lunch box? Already? (It's pretty cute, though, isn't it?)
This week we went a few mornings for a "Trial run." I stayed with her for the first day, disappeared for an hour the next day, and tomorrow, she is dropped off for the entire time, with me "on call" in case she melts down. The first day, she never looked back - just hopped into the sandbox with the other children, following them inside for quiet play and snacks, happily grabbed for paint brushes and pipe cleaners, and the like. The second day when I actually tried to leave, it was a little harder, with her wrapping her legs around my middle, crying big tears. (which, i was told, stopped in about 2 minutes after I left). Why do kids make it so hard on us parents? I walked to the local coffee shop with my research, feeling the largest hunk of guilt settling uneasily in my stomach. Steve wondered aloud at dinner last night if she's ready to be "institutionalized" - I asked him what he meant. "Oh, you know, learning to all line up, follow the leader, sitting down to lunch with a group of kids, taking directives... you know, the beginnings of institutionalization." Oh dear, it is as if we live in Communist state or something!
But in some ways, I hear his thoughts. I wonder how my free-spirit, my independent, stubborn, excitable daughter will act each day with a larger group of children. I wonder will she have as much passion for activities or will she stand back and watch? We are all different people in the comfort of our families versus in the company of others.
As I start to label her outside fleece, consider what the heck I'm going to pack in the lunch box, and plan my research agenda for the next few weeks, I want to hold all these moments, these precious toddler moments, in my head, and hope that in 20 years, I don't forget how great this time, being almost two. Sure, she exhausts me like hell, but I think I do secretly love (al)most every minute of it. Maybe this, this feeling, is why people want to have another kid. Not to deal with the terrible twos all over again, but to feel the wonderful twos all over again.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Never a dull moment...
I've actually been asked by a friend for a new blog post. My Christmas New Year rather belated holiday greeting recap of 2010 is getting old, but sadly, when the day "ends" at 9:30 at night (aka when Steve and I finally sit down for a breather) chronicling the adventures of the Germonskis seems to be the last thing on my mind. However, if I don't sit and blog a little from time to time, Stella will never have a proper baby book (as the blog so often ends up becoming) and I'll be too old, batty, and senile to remember fondly the moments of her youth.
Like these: another camping trip marred by an event... Dec. 31, 2010 we head to the valley beyond the small mountain range right out of town. 40 minute drive (and that's in the VW!) to a small camping area in the Santa Ynez Valley... just for the night. Just for a try to see what it's like when you actually might get a full night of sleep with a toddler and a dog in a van. Just maybe.
Stella enjoyed marveling at the wonders of gloves, eating by candlelight, and headlamps. At 5:30 at night, we heard a car come racing around the bend near the campground and slam into the utility pole nearest our site. People rushed around, the campground hosts were contacted, and a while later, a police car and ambulance showed up. We did not know what happened to the driver, although the car ended up in the ditch off the side of the road.
What we do know however is the the aforementioned slamming of said pole caused the electric company to come out and investigate. And when you live in California, and wildfires happen because of downed power lines, you don't mess around. You don't mess around in fact, even on New Year's Eve. You send out guys to replace the utility pole. At 10pm at night. And they come. Because, hell, it's New Year's Eve and they are probably getting like quadruple pay. And they replace the utility pole. UNTIL TWO IN THE MORNING. With chain saws. And jackhammers. And jokes. And loud guffaws. And then Stella wakes up at 5 in the morning because she's having intestinal distress from the campfire dinner of the night before and you just pack up and go back over the mountain. Because hey, it's only 40 minutes, it's 6am, and you are used to camping trips just never going smoothly.
************
In the department of 2011 adventures that have gone smoothly, my parents graced us with a wonderful visit for two weeks. I got to play tourist in Santa Barbara with Stella and her Delaware grandparents, and Stella had a ball having two other playmates that were here to do nothing but love on her. The joy that she exuded when they showed up in the morning, the smile across her face at seeing my father and mother elated me to no end - and reminded me why families chose NOT to move 3200 miles away from their kin in years gone by.
And rocked out basically every day. Yep. Daughter of theatrical parents right there. No denying that.
*************
One more amusing Stella story... I finally squelched the impulse for people to think I was a neurotic first time mom and went to the doctor to have her evaluate Stella's speech (or lack there of). She suggested for her to get her hearing tested (passed with flying colors) and have an evaluation done by the local center that usually works with children and families with an array of disabilities. I told the social worker on the phone before our first appointment that Stella had 3 clear words that she used often, which, at that point, was true. No, uh-oh, and hi. Occasional words included kick, dig, sit, stick (all related to Scupper, go figure) and when she was feeling blue, mama. At almost 22 months, the woman said we should definitely have a meeting and also scheduled a speech therapist to do a further evaluation.
In the week it took for the therapist to show up at our house, Stella increased her phrases to "more please (or in Stella speak "morah thease") and added a voracious usage of "baby" due to the increased attention paid to her soft doll. When she arrived, although we were in her environment, Stella wasn't into playing the woman's games - she wouldn't talk for her, for me, or even do any of her favorite animal sounds. The woman flipped through a book with photos of everyday life things and asked Stella to either say or point to the picture. "Can you find the book? the ball? the dog?" yes yes and yes. But no words. On the page with food, "Can you show me the cookies?" prompted Stella to think on it a lot. I told the woman that we rarely had them (I think she was little surprised). And yet, the minute she turned to the page with pictures of animals and farm equipment, Stella blurts out "TRACT - TAH"
The therapist looks at me in surprise. So now I'm not sure whether 'tractor' qualified us for therapy or not. ;)
Like these: another camping trip marred by an event... Dec. 31, 2010 we head to the valley beyond the small mountain range right out of town. 40 minute drive (and that's in the VW!) to a small camping area in the Santa Ynez Valley... just for the night. Just for a try to see what it's like when you actually might get a full night of sleep with a toddler and a dog in a van. Just maybe.
Stella likes the pop top.
Scupper was cold so we fashioned a "poncho" out of his dog towel.
We brought a little propane heater acceptable for tents and campers that kept us all toasty in the 35 degree nighttime weather, so toasty in fact that Scupper refused to sit outside with us by the fire and instead happily climbed in his usual front driver seat perch to bed down early for the night. 
Stella enjoyed marveling at the wonders of gloves, eating by candlelight, and headlamps. At 5:30 at night, we heard a car come racing around the bend near the campground and slam into the utility pole nearest our site. People rushed around, the campground hosts were contacted, and a while later, a police car and ambulance showed up. We did not know what happened to the driver, although the car ended up in the ditch off the side of the road.
What we do know however is the the aforementioned slamming of said pole caused the electric company to come out and investigate. And when you live in California, and wildfires happen because of downed power lines, you don't mess around. You don't mess around in fact, even on New Year's Eve. You send out guys to replace the utility pole. At 10pm at night. And they come. Because, hell, it's New Year's Eve and they are probably getting like quadruple pay. And they replace the utility pole. UNTIL TWO IN THE MORNING. With chain saws. And jackhammers. And jokes. And loud guffaws. And then Stella wakes up at 5 in the morning because she's having intestinal distress from the campfire dinner of the night before and you just pack up and go back over the mountain. Because hey, it's only 40 minutes, it's 6am, and you are used to camping trips just never going smoothly.
Yep. 5am folks.
************
In the department of 2011 adventures that have gone smoothly, my parents graced us with a wonderful visit for two weeks. I got to play tourist in Santa Barbara with Stella and her Delaware grandparents, and Stella had a ball having two other playmates that were here to do nothing but love on her. The joy that she exuded when they showed up in the morning, the smile across her face at seeing my father and mother elated me to no end - and reminded me why families chose NOT to move 3200 miles away from their kin in years gone by.
Stella appropriately showed off...
And tried to use chopsticks
Snuggled with Grampy
Had way too much playing with her dolly and Grammy
*************
One more amusing Stella story... I finally squelched the impulse for people to think I was a neurotic first time mom and went to the doctor to have her evaluate Stella's speech (or lack there of). She suggested for her to get her hearing tested (passed with flying colors) and have an evaluation done by the local center that usually works with children and families with an array of disabilities. I told the social worker on the phone before our first appointment that Stella had 3 clear words that she used often, which, at that point, was true. No, uh-oh, and hi. Occasional words included kick, dig, sit, stick (all related to Scupper, go figure) and when she was feeling blue, mama. At almost 22 months, the woman said we should definitely have a meeting and also scheduled a speech therapist to do a further evaluation.
In the week it took for the therapist to show up at our house, Stella increased her phrases to "more please (or in Stella speak "morah thease") and added a voracious usage of "baby" due to the increased attention paid to her soft doll. When she arrived, although we were in her environment, Stella wasn't into playing the woman's games - she wouldn't talk for her, for me, or even do any of her favorite animal sounds. The woman flipped through a book with photos of everyday life things and asked Stella to either say or point to the picture. "Can you find the book? the ball? the dog?" yes yes and yes. But no words. On the page with food, "Can you show me the cookies?" prompted Stella to think on it a lot. I told the woman that we rarely had them (I think she was little surprised). And yet, the minute she turned to the page with pictures of animals and farm equipment, Stella blurts out "TRACT - TAH"
The therapist looks at me in surprise. So now I'm not sure whether 'tractor' qualified us for therapy or not. ;)
Friday, January 7, 2011
Happy Russian Orthodox Christmas?
Happy Valentines?
But you also didn’t come to this blog to hear me complain about my pathetic attempts to reach out to family and friends via the US Postal Service. You came to see this:
And possibly this:
And maybe even this:
It’s been a full year… Miss Stella Ruth went from being a little roly-poly of a baby to a little girl. In a mere 12 months. It was a year of firsts: first crawl, first birthday, first steps, first ocean swim, first words, first long road trip, first chocolate milkshake. ;) Watching her blossom into the gregarious, albeit mischievous toddler has been a delight. Her personality is ever evolving… she loves reading books, playing in puddles, and tending to her growing collection of stuffed animals. Her relationship with Scupper is a joy to watch, and I can’t help sharing this video of the daily ritual when she wakes up from her afternoon nap:
And although many of you know about the last two firsts for this year, I suppose I should mention then again (maybe just to virtually “pinch” myself that it really happened). I successfully defended my dissertation in November (after packing a house and moving to Santa Barbara the week before) and you may now refer to me as Dr. Z. You may also refer to me as a “tri-athlete” but that might be a bit of a stretch, although my brother and I did a triathlon in September together. We pushed each other all summer to train, and although his success was amazing (44th overall in a field of over 900), my goal was to finish and not be wrecked. I think I achieved my goal:
While I believe that Stella had the most development in her life this year, Steve and I had more than our fair share of stress, I mean, excitement. We both learned a lot from the ever-changing job market. I was asked to a few on-campus interviews this spring and traveling to the East Coast on three separate trips to interview at colleges. While they did not lead to eventual jobs (and in looking back, I think we’re happy with that outcome) it was a very intense and important learning experience in my career: the preparation that goes into an academic job interview, the stamina needed once there on campus, and the reality that I was interviewing them as much as they were interviewing me. I discovered what I like – and don’t like – about higher education, as well as academic theatre, and hope that in the coming years, I will find an institutional home where I am happy.
Steve also had a variety of job interviews, from corporate theater in LA, to an on-campus at a small “hippie” college in Washington, to one at UC Santa Barbara… and obviously, we decided, after many weeks of haggling and debate, to accept. Steve is the resident technical director for the Theatre and Dance department, continuing much of what he did at La Jolla Playhouse, only on a much smaller scale. It’s been an interesting transition for him: he has always wanted to “end up” in educational theater, but it also is hard letting go of the “fun toys” that you get to play with in professional theater (machines, tools, automation) and transfer that gearhead energy into getting 18-21 year olds excited about theater.
Our move to Santa Barbara was bittersweet in many ways. While we had been trying to “get out” of San Diego for the past few years, when we finally made the decision, we realized how many roots we had established in the city, and were sad (and still are) to leave the many friends we had made. Six years was the longest we had lived anywhere since we had left our childhood homes, and I think we are still transitioning. Why is it when you leave something that you finally realize the true depth of what you had? So many kind people helped us pack, load a truck, babysit Stella and Scupper… the outpouring of support was humbling.
This year also saw many visits by family, which was wonderful for Stella and us, considering our families live so far away. My mother came in February for 3 weeks while I wrote a chapter of my dissertation; Steve’s parents and aunt came for Stella’s birthday in April, I went home with Stella in May to finish the last chapter of the diss; we took a brief but fun visit to Lake Tahoe to see Steve’s family again in August; a visit from the Zygmonski clan (all of them!) in September; and then the Gerlachs returned back to California in November to enjoy Stella yet again while I traveled to a 4 day conference in Seattle. Even if I believe we will never live right around the corner from either of our parents (unless ya’ll want to move?) Stella has enjoyed much needed grandparent time this year, and I hope that everyone has the energy to continue to do it. Now that we live in a place even more beautiful than San Diego (yes, it’s true, it really is), I hope that 2011 will see more visits from family – and friends?? Seriously guys, come on out. We have a huge yard, a big deck, and goats, horses, chickens, and turkeys as neighbors!
I think I better end this long-winded letter/blog post. I hope that 2011 proves to be as adventurous and exciting, but maybe not with SO much excitement as 2010. May this missive serve as a virtual hug from us to each of you. As Garrison Keillor always says, be well, do good work, and keep in touch.
SASS Germonski (Steve, Aimee, Stella and Scupper)
(and no, we haven’t officially changed our last name to Germonski. Maybe 2011 will be the year of the Zyglachs, who knows?)
Addendum: 1/10/11... I realized that I did not share any Scupper news! And knowing to whom I sent postcards (Morley Field gang!) some of you might be interested. Scupper has adjusted well to Santa Barbara, although I know he does miss his regular gang of doggie friends. We ran into a cattle dog last week on the trail that looked like a friend's dog and he got all excited for a moment, then when we got a little closer, he realized it wasn't her. It made us a little sad, actually, and reminded us that dogs have "friends" as well and moving away from them is also a transition for them. He loves his big yards, and has had one or two run-ins with the copious amounts of livestock in the area. Let's just say that there is probably no love lost between him and the neighbor's goats, and we've learned a valuable lesson about Scupper's listening skills in regards to horses. (i.e. there is no listening, and keep him on leash near any... he really just wants to sniff their butts, but I guess the horses don't take too kindly to that). We found an old soccer ball on the beach a few weeks ago, and he's now obsessed. Like REALLY OBSESSED. I think even more obsessed than digging for gophers. We have to hide the soccer ball when we're not kicking it around because he'll just bark or whine at it on the front porch until someone plays with him. Otherwise, he is tireless, a great trail hiker, and an even better beachcomber. In short, considering the amount of outside, off-leash play he continues to enjoy in Santa Barbara, I think Scupper has had a pretty good year. ;)
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