At least they are still "dancers"...

My mom introduced Stella to Disney's The Little Mermaid when we visited this past August. In fact, I believe she made my father save an old tv/VCR combo just so that they could watch the old VHS tape together when she was old enough. "Enough" means that they still had to fast-forward through the Ursula song (because a creepy old octopus that sings in a minor key is still a bit much for a 3 year old), but overall, Stella was enthralled.

On our first trip to the local library here, Stella found the CD section that was stocked with tons of children's music - quite wonderful actually. She found the soundtrack to the Little Mermaid, and so we checked out, only to listen to the same 5 songs (sans Ursula's) on the way to school and the way home --- EVERY DAY. When we finally had to return the CD, Stella found a whole section of Disney CDs entitled "Songs and Stories" and found Cinderella - which of course, she labeled as "Look Mommy, the dancer from my nighttime diapers I used to wear!" These CDs (and we have since checked out Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, and today, picked up Beauty and the Beast and Brave) have 4 songs from the film on them, and a female narrator that "tells" the story from the film, with snippets of the actual movie dialogue thrown in. They are basically story tapes, and conveniently, are about the length of our drive to school, give or take a few minutes.

I have now listened to Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Snow White UMPTEEN times. I rather miss listening to NPR on the way to work in the morning... but as soon as I turn the key in the ignition, I hear from the back seat, "put on Sleeping Beauty Mommy." In one respect, I'm a bit over it. I was and continue to be always wary of the whole Disney Princess phenomenon, and the message that it sends to young girls. Look pretty and the first man you meet will end up being a handsome prince who wants to marry you, no matter what he has to do - battle evil witches, kiss you even though you look dead and have been living with a bunch of dwarves... even Cinderella, who has to put up with a evil stepmother, gets off because of some pretty awesome mice who unlock her attic door. Or, at least, according to Disney.

On the other hand, at 3 1/2, Stella (luckily) isn't really getting the whole "get the prince because you are beautiful" story line. And listening to the tapes over and over again has begun to increase her vocabulary. Yesterday, she told Steve she was going to "swiftly run" through the house. "Swiftly?" I asked. "Yes, swiftly." (I think that's from Sleeping Beauty). She even started a bit of literary analysis this week while listening to Snow White. "Mommy, the evil Queen is a lot like the mean stepmother in Sleeping Beauty." I'm not sure if she meant that the voices sound the same or that the characters are the same, but I'll content myself with the latter. She asked last week why the stepmother was not nice, and I explained about how stories like these needed an evil character or nothing interesting would happen (aka dramatic conflict). Because of these stories, she has also been asking questions like "what is killed?" and "how we die?" which are a bit harder to explain in her terminology, but I've been trying my best.

Another boon, because she has been enthralled with listening to these stories, I decided it was high time we started chapter books at bedtime. We haven't tackled it every night, but I'm happy to say we are half way through Charlotte's Web, and I couldn't be more pleased to move away from short picture books for the time being. Sniffle... she's growing up... sniffle... and at least for now, she still thinks the princesses are "dancers" so we'll keep that up.

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In other news, last night after I put her to bed, I put in the oven a tray of frozen cookies. (I make a full batch when I make the batter, and freeze half in little balls so that we can put a tray in when we're feeling like we need a cookie fix later in the month). After the cookies came out of the oven, I heard her tromping upstairs. Stella? Why are you still up? I had to pee, Mom. -- then she looks me straight in the eye and says in a sneaky lilt to her voice "I smell something yummy!" I had to hide my smile and told her it was a vanilla candle to cover up the fish smell from dinner. "Well, it smells like something else here in my room!"


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Why do I feel like such a supermom when I can take Stella and Louisa places by myself? It is because it feels so exhausting to do that, and when I can accomplish it successfully, I feel like I deserve a pat on the back. I know that's silly, but on Saturday while Steve was at a conference, I took them both to a farm (vegas has farms??) to pick apples (apple orchards? in vegas??) and pumpkins. Picture me. Stella holding my hand. Louisa in a hiking backpack. I have a bag with the camera and a lunch box, a pumpkin, and 8 pounds of apples. No wonder people were looking at me like they felt sorry for me. Of course, then I realized when I got back to the car that we do own a stroller. A good one in fact. One that could have easily navigated the rocky terrain. Idiot.

 Louisa is like, Mom, really? We own a stroller.

 Luckily, Stella was MORE than happy to pick a small pumpkin.

 Such a movie star look.

Pumpkin patch picture fail because of them facing into the direct Vegas sun.

So I redeemed myself when we got home. Headbands compliments of Grandmum and Grandpa. (And they even like wearing them!)

A very merry unbirthday

I think, if I were to look back over the blog posts from sometime in October of last year, I might find a posting about "where has my awesome daughter gone and who replaced her with Zool?" A friend calmly explained last year that 1/2 birthdays are the worst times for kids under five and not to worry - it will get better when she turns 3. Well, here we are again at another 1/2 birthday and Stella has turned in Zool.

Well, not exactly the monster from Ghostbusters but rather an opinionated little snot.
- Mommy, I am NOT eating that dinner. (pushes it away across the table to the point of almost knocking it off)
- Mommy, I don't like that shirt. I am not wearing it. Eewww.
Stella, please put your shoes on. "No." What did you say? "No no no no not ever ever ever for you ever again!!!"

Needless to say, Stella has recently learned about the "uncooperative chair." (We borrowed the phrase from the Kevin Henkes mouse books, and by god, if any of you know them, Stella is Lily. She is. No doubt.)

Steve and I find ourselves looking at her and saying "Excuse me? What did you say?" Somehow, in the course of 4 weeks, she has learned to talk back, but when we tell her that talking back to your parents isn't nice, she doesn't seem to understand the concept of "talking back" and then we have to go into the whole discussion of what that means and by then, the moment's past and she's off doing something else.

The other night, the 'no's" escalated so much that I finally say, Stella, if you can't do something for me, then I'm not going to do anything for you. I'm not going to make your Halloween mermaid costume. As soon as it came out of my mouth, I realized that maybe I had gone too far. Stella looked at me, with a bit of tears welling in her eyes and said "Mommy, you just broke my heart."

Thanks Stella. Way to make a Mommy feel awesome. Damn. She's going to be an actor, I just know it. I think we jinxed ourselves by naming her Stella.

A mom at an indoor playground last week assuaged my fears and told me, it's ok. The day he turned 4, everything got better. Really, the day he turned four. Okay, April 16, 2013 here we come.

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In other news, Louisa magically turned 6 months already. All in one week, she turned 6 months, got an ear infection, started "Stranger danger," started "I only want Mommy," and is teething. Oh, and she refuses to eat solid food. We've tried avocado, sweet potatoes, and carrots. Not interested in anything. Tonight I'm banking on peas, but I have a feeling I'll still be shot down.

Last week we went to Lake Mead for some semblance of "beach time" which we so desperately miss. I was sitting on a beach chair under the awning off the van hanging out with Lulu while Steve splashed in the water with Stella. Louisa was fascinated with my hat and kept trying to take it off my head. When she finally succeeded, she looked at me and laughed the biggest belly laugh ever, like "ha ha Mommy, I won!"

Et tu Louisa? Boy, are we in for it.

To have or have not

So I'm not going to blame Grampy... okay, I'm going to blame Grampy. See, when we were visiting the Delaware grandparents for two weeks following our crazy move to Las Vegas, Grampy thought it was awesome that Stella loved ice cream. In a cone. Preferably from the DQ. We didn't have a DQ in Santa Barbara, much less desserts every night. (We did make our own ice cream, which Stella would enjoy, as well as lemon ice... but besides the general banana bread/muffin thing we do, dessert wasn't a usual occurrence). But Las Vegas has a DQ. Lewes has a DQ. and Grammy and Grampy always had some sort of snack hanging around the house after dinner to enjoy.

Let's just say Stella took a liking to dessert every night.

Let's also say that Mommy and Daddy did not. It's not that we forbid sugar in the house - on the contrary. Friday morning Stella told me at 6am that she wanted scones for breakfast. But dessert every night for a girl that is very affected by sugar? Ugh.

So lately during dinner the usual fight is "if i eat all my dinner, can I have ice cream?" or "After dinner I will still be hungry so I will need ice cream" -- this is usually spouted when her plate is still full of food. Some nights, we give in. Usually those are the nights when she ends up eating most of her dinner, there is minimal whining and crying throughout the day, and we don't even have to ask. Those are the nights that I feel should be rewarded. However, there have been one or two nights when the pleading for ice cream gets so intense (and the food consumption so little) that we put our foot down, to rivers of tears and "I won't ever ever like you again" (the newest phrase).

Last night Stella started whispering. What Stella, I asked? She kept whispering.  What are you saying, I asked again.

"Oh, I'm just whispering that I want ice cream after dinner. If I whisper and you can't hear it, then you can't say no."

Well played.

Almost 6 months

Tutu by Stella.

Tie dye by Mommy.

Cuteness by Louisa.

Growing up too fast

Stella gets her big girl bed in less than 48 hours. I know, she's almost 3 1/2, but darn if she had no desire to crawl out of her crib before she was three... so we left her in it. And when Louisa was born, we took off the side and made it a "toddler bed" and she's been sleeping in it that way since then. We had to wait for Mommy to get her first paycheck before we took the plunge and she's been more than patient.

We picked out sheets today. I was rather proud of her and instead of going for Hello Kitty or the "Dancers" (that's what she thinks the Disney Princesses are), she picked out Target brand sheets with horses all over them. We even found matching vinyl decals for the walls (so worth the $10) and now her horse fantasy can be complete.

Two weeks ago we ran out of nighttime pull-ups and I just said, hey Stel, I"m not buying you anymore diapers, so let's just try not peeing in your bed tonight, what do you think? And holy cow, she did it. Since then, we've only had one accident, and I think that was my fault because I forgot to remind her to pee after reading books.

It's seem a bit unreal that we're at the "sleeping in a real bed, with underwear" phase already. (It also seems crazy that Louisa will be six months old in a week, but let's not go there yet. I'm not ready to start making baby food again).

There are days when she is so incredibly mature, I forget that she's 3. This morning, after waking up at 5:20 am(!!!) she informed me that she wanted to make scones for breakfast. Scones? Okay. As we were cutting in the butter and getting ready to add the buttermilk, she kept eating pinches of butter and flour. Stella! We don't eat the flour and butter - you know that. And in her best California Valley girl dialect, she looked at me and said, "Mom, I'm three. That's just what I do. I'm three."

Overheard

I don’t want to forget any of the recent gems from Stella’s mouth – so here they are, with little context.

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On the car ride from Santa Barbara to Vegas. 9pm at night. Mommy and Grampy are exhausted from trying to soothe two little girls who are tired but not sleeping in their car seats. Louisa finally passes out after nursing in the parking lot of a Mexican cantina off the 405. Seriously folks. Stella is still awake.

“Mommy, let’s count doggies.”

Stella, it’s dark. We can’t see dogs in people’s cars. It’s too dark.

“Mommy, let’s count pretend doggies.”

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We go through a tunnel under the airport tarmac every day to work/preschool. There are two tunnels – one with northbound traffic, one with southbound traffic.

On the way home: “I’m a little tea pot short and stout… “ and she sings the rest of the song.

Stella, is that the official tunnel song?

“yes. And this morning, my handle was over here (indicating the left side of her body) so on the way home, I put my handle over here (indicating the right side).

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With the recent flooding (great, we arrive just in time for MONSOON season in Vegas) there have been police cars all over directing traffic, etc. We hardly ever saw police vehicles in Santa Barbara so the concept of “police” is new to Stella.

On the way to work: “Mommy! There is a police car. (beat) What do Police do?”

so I try to explain, saying something about keeping people safe, keeping people safe on the roads and stopping drivers that drive too fast, protecting us in our homes and in the neighborhood from some not nice people. I said, so they might take the not-nice people away so they won’t hurt anyone or not be nice.

“Oh, and then the police give them hugs so they will be good again, right?”

Um, yes, maybe the police give them hugs.

Hell, it IS a novel idea, isn’t it?

Superlatives

Neglect. This blog has suffered from severe neglect. But then again, things have been a little loony. (and that's an understatement). I've composed many a blog post in my head at the 12:45am feeding, and yet have not the time to sit and write it... unless of course, I wanted to keep staying up at 12:45am, which is not the case.

So if there are still readers - I'm sorry. I do enjoy the writing of the blog and keeping some record of our adventures and foibles, so I hope to get back on track. There have been many stories and things to write about in the last two months, but today, here is what is on my mind.

Las Vegas is the -est of all the places we have lived for many reasons.
- hottest. Pardon my language, but god damn it's freaking hot here. Dry heat my ass. 110 is 110. and it's freaking hot. Right now it's 106 in the sun on my patio. It was 123 earlier. Now the thermometer was in the sun, but seriously folks, it's just hot. Stella's preschool director said she doesn't guarantee better weather until Halloween. If that's the case, I'm definitely going to be a witch. (or I will leading up to Halloween, if you know what I mean).

- driest. This is the driest place we have ever lived on Earth. It feels like Death Valley. That 106 I mentioned? Yes, and it's 2% humidity. TWO PERCENT. I have never felt that in my life. Nor have our eyes, our noses... Someone in the elevator at work said on Thursday, man, it's humid today, and I started laughing. Humid? You mean like maybe it's up to like 20%? Yes, she said seriously, it's really humid -can't you feel it? No, I said. I grew up on the East Coast. All i got was a curt "oh."

- ugliest. yes, Ugliest. Las Vegas isn't pretty folks. It has wide wide streets, surrounded by concrete walls, each of the stucco look-alike-ticky-tacky houses have concrete fences, and where it is not developed, it's a big dry dirt pile. The skyline is the weirdest thing ever. A black pyramid. A gold tower. A fake Chrysler building. It's just odd, ya'll.

- highest. We're at 2100 feet, and for all of us, that's the highest altitude we've ever lived. Besides the fact that it's so dry (see above) we also need to consume more water for altitude. I know that seems silly, especially for people that have lived in Denver (hi Mom!), but after living at sea level all our lives, this is also a change.

- farthest. This actually doesn't apply to Steve (but I guess from the last 15 years, it does). This is the farthest that I have (and the dog and the girls) have ever lived from an ocean. Even Richmond and Williamstown were only 2 hours. We are now 3 1/2. This is slightly disconcerting.

- dumbest. I guess this one isn't that fair, but in a way, it's true. In the Vegas metro area, only 12% of the population has a college degree or higher. 12%. But then again, I guess they aren't *that* dumb, because I found out from someone at work the other day that one of his students left school because she made $82K as a cocktail waitress at one of the casinos the year before she went back to school... and when she realized that she wasn't going to make with whatever her degree was in, she said whatever to that degree. Maybe I should wise up and become a cocktail waitress.

- biggest. This is the biggest house we have ever lived in together. We have 3 bedrooms, and yet the third bedroom has hardly anything in it - just some boxes, a few things in the closet. We don't really know what to do with the space. It's also the newest house we have ever lived in, and as much as it looks "nice" in that it's "newer" we don't think it's us. It's not our style. Out of the blue in the car ride home from a pool yesterday, Stella said to me, "Mommy? I like our old house in Santa Barbara better." I asked her what she meant? "I just liked it. I miss it." I should have been positive. I should have said something to deflect, but all I could say was, "Me too Stella. Me too." and then I couldn't talk because I had a lump in my throat.

- most diverse. I'm trying to be positive here. Not since New York City have we lived/worked in such a diverse area. UNLV is an incredibly diverse campus and in the evenings at the park two blocks from our house, I have heard Russian, Spanish, Hindi, and a few other languages I couldn't pick out. To me, and for the girls, that's pretty great.

That's my list so far that warrants description. Tackiest also comes to mind, but that's a given. Let's just say our transition in this move was the hardest move Steve and I have ever had to make in our lives. Clearly, we're not over it yet. Coming from one of the most beautiful places in America to one of the ugliest (in my opinion) has been tough. As I've mentioned on the blog before, it's not that we were so tied to the people in Santa Barbara, but our house and our environs really affected our daily lives so intrinsically. We are getting better, but we have not a clue what to do with a dog and young children when you can't go outside during the day. I guess if we had moved somewhere that has a real winter, I would be writing about this in November. What do you do to keep everyone occupied and getting energy out? Coloring, baking (which unfortunately heats up the house), playing with dolls/toys/make believe only last so long. Stella and Steve desperately miss their time every afternoon on our old tree swing,  Scupper misses smelling the horses on our 2+ mile walks (we can only assume), and I miss being able to turn Stella out into the yard whenever being the house gets too stuffy. Steve hasn't ridden a bike in 6 weeks and he's going crazy.

I can only hope that BEFORE Halloween, the weather will turn, we'll start to settle in a bit more, and we will embrace the desert.

Or not.