Snippets

A month in pictures and overheard statements, because sadly, Mama doesn't have the time for more...

Overheard:

Stella (pretending to talk on the phone): Hi Scuppy.
Mama: Stella? Are you talking to Scupper on the phone?
Stella: Yah.
Mama: Oh. Well, what is Scupper saying to you?
Stella: (listening) Arf Arf!

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Mama: Stella, please don't move your chair that way, you'll tip it over and fall.
Stella: and I would cry.
Mama: Yes, you would cry.
Stella: (fake crying) eh he he
Daddy: Stella, do you want another bite of dinner?
Stella: No, Daddy, I'm crying.

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Scupper: Bark Bark Bark (in the yard)
Stella: (from bedroom when I thought she was taking a nap) No Scuppy! I'm sleeping!

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 I love this photo - don't ask me why. It's just the phase that Stella is in.

 First haircut. She would only sit on Grammy's lap, not by herself, and she was very trepidacious about the whole thing. However, she really needed it - it was starting to look mullet-esque.

 Chilling with Daddy after hiking to the beach.

 Rockin' the beach fort Memorial Day Weekend.

 First face painting. She was a little confused afterwards because she thought the lady was going to GIVE her a butterfly, not put one on her face. Oh well. Maybe we'll wait until three for another one.

Checking to make sure Mama and Daddy are there, during the little performance her preschool gave.

 Now fully accepting the butterfly.

 Playing dress-up, looking very much like she was out of a Jane Austen film adaptation. Maybe she is looking for Mr. Darcy.

That's us - the wacky threesome who hang out during the day, trying to have fun until Daddy comes home from work. Notice the smears of little fingers on the mirror. Oh well. No one ever said I was a good housekeeper. ;)

We are THAT family...

or maybe not "that" family, but definitely one of those families that you probably shake your head going, huh? really?

Case in point:

Our neighbors in the back, with whom we have a good relationship (and I have a tendency to think merely "put" up with us sometimes) are in the process of buying a second car. "Mique" has a new job that requires a 20 mile commute (instead of a bike ride) and her husband Tom will be away this summer doing research in the Sierras (he studies frogs) and usually takes the car all summer. So, after they found out that Steve is a regular "Car Talk" kind of guy, they have been occasionally stopping by to ask a question here and there about cars. She practically made Steve's month last night when they stopped by and she asked if he would go test drive one with her. But tonight, they stopped by to say that they may have put a deposit on one this morning and was that the right decision?

Enter the Germonskis - at 5:30pm on a weekend - which involves dinner prep as well as the tettering-tottering point of Stella between totally pleasant and utter meltdown because she needs to eat. They knock at the door, the dog goes crazy, I'm up to my ears in prep, so I ask them to come towards the kitchen so we can chat and continue cooking.

Me: I have chunks of chicken in a bowl and I'm smearing bacon paste on the chicken and then putting it on kabobs. (new recipe-- the bacon paste keeps the chicken skewers moist)
Steve: Scraping a vanilla bean over a pot of cream and milk, in the process of making homemade ice cream
Scupper: alternately begging between the raw chicken on the counter and asking Tom to scratch his butt
Stella: running around screaming "Mique! Mique" at the top of her lungs, and then in a lull in conversation, running from her bedroom with a pile of Hello Kitty underwear to show them, screaming "Cat!" (we started slowly entering into the world of potty-training this weekend)

What did they think of us?? The kitchen was a cooking explosion - i'm up to my elbow in bacon paste, Steve's trying to figure out how to scrape a vanilla bean, Scupper is shameless in asking for affection, and Stella is parading her underwear screaming "Cat."

So yah, when you put it that way, we ARE that family. Go figure. God only knows what's going to happen when Stella may start to have friends over to play...

I'm the keymaster, are you the gatekeeper?

We're a nosy lot, we Germonski's. No wonder that Stella and Scup have "inherited" this trait from their parents. Is it because we're in theatre that we have to understand the stories of everyone around us? (or, if you're not careful, we'll make one up!) As I may have mentioned before, our house sits on a large property that also includes a couple renting the converted stable house in the back and a single guy in a studio behind our garage. However, our house is in the front and we share the driveway, so we observe the comings and goings of our neighbors, and in turn, they must (we can only assume) suffer through dealing with us when they go to work or come home. Because Stella and Scupper love love love to be outside, the neighbors are usually bombarded with our family when they come home from work. Scupper of course, barks at anything that moves (even himself) but luckily after 7 months, they all have started to realize the difference between the "who the hell are you?" bark and the "oh people are home! i know those people! i like these people! people are home!" bark.
                    Stella has become quite fascinated with the woman (of the couple) that lives in the back - Dominique, or "Mique" as Stella calls her. Stella jumps up and down for joy when her car pulls into the driveway and if we're outside, accosts her for a hug, a hello, anything she can get (while, of course Scupper barks until he is pet). Her husband Tom has, of late, enjoyed such status as well, when before he would drive their car and appear in the driveway, Stella would go, "Mique! oh, no. Tom" and walk away. (Poor Tom!) Lately, Stella has also been fascinated with the single guy Carl who does a lot of coming and going in his Jeep. "Truck. Car-aul. Loud truck."  A few weeks ago, Carl pet Scupper a nice goodbye and said he was headed for the weekend to Los Angeles to visit his girlfriend. Later that night, Stella asked where "Car-aul" was. "LA," I replied. "Oh... L ... A." Stella said back. And that was that. Flash forward to this past weekend when my mom was here (more on the wonderfulness of a two week Grammy visit in another post), and my mom heard Scupper barking outside. "Who is Scupper barking at?" Grammy asked. "Is Carl home?"

"No," Stella replied. "L.A."

No flies on this one, as my mom would say.

Be careful what you ask for...

you might just get a 2 year old that doesn't stop talking...like really, doesn't stop talking from the moment she wakes up and sings to herself until we come in and get her in the morning until she's ready for bed and (thankfully) has her fingers in her mouth and will be quiet during books. However, I am totally loving pretend play.

Overheard this week:

on our walk past a spot where we had collected pinecones a few days before:

"No pinecones?"
No Stella, I guess they are all gone. We have more at home.
"Bunny, no pinecones. It's ok. Pinecones home. No Bunny, it's ok."

to her cloth baby doll, sitting in the stroller:
"Baby! You poop?" Sniffs. Pulls back the doll's diaper. "No, no poop. It's ok."

to her bear, at her little table in the dining room:
"Oh Bear... bear. Bear's cute. Tea, bear? Tea. Yah. Tea. It's good." (Lip smacking sounds). "All gone? Wow Bear. More tea??"

as she pulls down her bowl of lentil stew off the counter for dinner:
(looking the bowl) Oh no... beans! no....no... no... beans again! (Puts the bowl back on the counter in disgust)

I'm really digging two right now. I'm not digging the fact that she has started not to listen, continually tries to stand up in her chair during dinner and pulls the dog's tail, but other than that, I like two. I feel like we're having conversations now, and overhearing the conversations she has with her animals and doll are just too funny. Bunny is not just Bunny, but Bun-NEEEEE. (emphasis on the NEE). She also seems to be obsessed with clean and dirty right now, although I kind of feel that's weird because I don't remember saying it a whole lot, but I guess i do? I mean, I'm the one who lets her traipse all over the yard without shoes, get into the gardens and mud, etc. Every time we get into her car seat, she feels the cover and goes, "It's clean." Um, well, it's probably not, I tell her. "Oh, dirty. Pup clean?" well, i guess so. "Pup soft..." definitely. She could care less about washing her hands, but she is concerned if her animals are clean or dirty and whether they are soft (luckily, they all are both soft and mostly clean). Good thing she hasn't started on me about my kitchen floors.

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.)

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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...)