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.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
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."
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."
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Overheard
I don’t want to forget any of the recent gems from Stella’s mouth – so here they are, with little context.
-----
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.”
------------
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).
----------
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?
Monday, September 3, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Bittersweet
Let's be honest. We aren't exactly thrilled about leaving the West Coast and Southern California. Certainly, that's geographically speaking. Steve is more than ready to leave his job and his annoying boss and co-workers. I am ready to finally start a fulltime job in an area where I have been training in for how many years? (oh, 8... right...) However, the thought of being 4 hours away from an ocean is a bit hard for us. The thought of 120 degrees is also a bit overwhelming, when most of our days, YEAR ROUND are 65-70. I'm not trying to brag, just putting it perspective. When you've lived in this kind of weather, this kind of gorgeous fauna, this kind of bluest ocean, it's a little hard to say goodbye. No wonder people in Santa Barbara never leave. Seriously. We have met so many people here that grew up here, or went to college here and NEVER LEFT. EVER. And they even work in crap jobs just to stay here. We didn't exactly understand that when we moved here.
We do now. Although that still doesn't change our other thoughts on this town - that it's elitist. That there is way too much money. That it's conservative. That everyone seems to suffer from a general malaise that makes them do nothing, or if something, very very slowly and with little effort.
We're looking at Vegas as our "tour of duty." Get in, get out. Get the credits so I can get the next good job. (Or get almost to tenure so I can bargain my way into another university in a better geographical region). Get Steve his MFA so HE can get the awesome job and get me a spousal hire. This is all conjecture, of course. We could get there and love it. (Not exactly sure on that front... but hey, trying to keep a little positive). I am looking forward to the ease of procuring various goods and sundries. How capitalist of me is that? I miss a good (and cheap) Asian grocery store. I miss Target. I miss affordable thrift stores. I miss tasty, inexpensive restaurants. Apparently, Las Vegas has all of these (esp. the awesome thrift stores. Seriously. I've had a few people tell me that.) Does all of this relate to expense? You betcha. Paradise costs, people. (Although I will be intrigued about the price of produce...) Let's put it in perspective. We have a 2 bedroom, 1 bath house with a 1 car, rat-infested garage. (But we have an expansive yard, porch and deck). In Las Vegas, FOR HALF WHAT WE PAY NOW, we are moving into a 3 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath, 2 car garage house. Seriously? We don't have fight over the bathroom? I don't have to wipe Stella pee off the seat before I pee? Sign me up.
And yet, as I type this, I'm canned 4 pints of vanilla applesauce. From our apple tree. Since last July, I have canned:
- vanilla plum jam
- blood orange marmalade
- bourbon, ginger peach jam
- peach butter
- apricot jam
All from our fruit trees in the yard. I haven't bought lemons or oranges in 2 years. This alone will make it hard to say goodbye.
And then again, I at least have a bunch of jars of jam to remember it every week when I make Stella's peanut butter and jelly.
We do now. Although that still doesn't change our other thoughts on this town - that it's elitist. That there is way too much money. That it's conservative. That everyone seems to suffer from a general malaise that makes them do nothing, or if something, very very slowly and with little effort.
We're looking at Vegas as our "tour of duty." Get in, get out. Get the credits so I can get the next good job. (Or get almost to tenure so I can bargain my way into another university in a better geographical region). Get Steve his MFA so HE can get the awesome job and get me a spousal hire. This is all conjecture, of course. We could get there and love it. (Not exactly sure on that front... but hey, trying to keep a little positive). I am looking forward to the ease of procuring various goods and sundries. How capitalist of me is that? I miss a good (and cheap) Asian grocery store. I miss Target. I miss affordable thrift stores. I miss tasty, inexpensive restaurants. Apparently, Las Vegas has all of these (esp. the awesome thrift stores. Seriously. I've had a few people tell me that.) Does all of this relate to expense? You betcha. Paradise costs, people. (Although I will be intrigued about the price of produce...) Let's put it in perspective. We have a 2 bedroom, 1 bath house with a 1 car, rat-infested garage. (But we have an expansive yard, porch and deck). In Las Vegas, FOR HALF WHAT WE PAY NOW, we are moving into a 3 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath, 2 car garage house. Seriously? We don't have fight over the bathroom? I don't have to wipe Stella pee off the seat before I pee? Sign me up.
And yet, as I type this, I'm canned 4 pints of vanilla applesauce. From our apple tree. Since last July, I have canned:
- vanilla plum jam
- blood orange marmalade
- bourbon, ginger peach jam
- peach butter
- apricot jam
All from our fruit trees in the yard. I haven't bought lemons or oranges in 2 years. This alone will make it hard to say goodbye.
And then again, I at least have a bunch of jars of jam to remember it every week when I make Stella's peanut butter and jelly.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Pushing buttons
Steve is in his last tech week - albeit a "mini one" where he only has to work until 11pm Tuesday- Thursday this week. Needless to say, I am toast after two afternoons/evenings with the girls by myself. How sad is that? Yesterday went beautifully. Tonight? Stella did about everything she could do to drive me batty. How's this one for cheeky?
After 10 minutes of cajoling her to sit her butt down and eat dinner, only to watch her run around and find everything else to do but that.
- "Stella, I am happy to take your dinner away. And no, there will be nothing later. You need to eat now if you're hungry."
That didn't work... but about 5 minutes later, I'm nursing Louisa at the dinner table, because of course she has to nurse when the proverbial poo is hitting the fan.
- "Mommy? I'm happy to take your water away."
- "What??"
- "Well, you're not drinking it, so I'm happy to take it away."
I swear that she had a gleam in her eye when she said it, like, you want to play that game Mommy? So can I.
If 3 years old is like this, what is 13 going to be like? Louisa better continue to be an easy child or we have are hands full!
After 10 minutes of cajoling her to sit her butt down and eat dinner, only to watch her run around and find everything else to do but that.
- "Stella, I am happy to take your dinner away. And no, there will be nothing later. You need to eat now if you're hungry."
That didn't work... but about 5 minutes later, I'm nursing Louisa at the dinner table, because of course she has to nurse when the proverbial poo is hitting the fan.
- "Mommy? I'm happy to take your water away."
- "What??"
- "Well, you're not drinking it, so I'm happy to take it away."
I swear that she had a gleam in her eye when she said it, like, you want to play that game Mommy? So can I.
If 3 years old is like this, what is 13 going to be like? Louisa better continue to be an easy child or we have are hands full!
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