Category Archives: Family/Parenting

Because there is more than just Stella.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Stella!

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Hi Stelly-Belle,

Today you are two…going on 15. It was just last month your dad reminded me that a year ago you weren’t even walking yet. It is nearly impossible to remember a time when you didn’t bolt from us every time we try to get you dressed, or that you were ever incapable of telling us EXACTLY how you were feeling. They were right – it really does go fast.

cutie stella

If we have discovered anything over the last two years it is that you learn and change at lightning pace, and that we had better take it all in while we can or we will miss it. We have had to learn to embrace this pace, as it is what keeps us sane. Less than desireable stages pass just as quickly as the ones we would like to hang onto forever. Some things have remained though, and we are ever thankful of your ability to be supremely adaptable, social and fun. You can be curious to a fault and, aside from the vacuum cleaner, you seem to fear nothing.

It is so easy to get caught up in the moment when it comes to dealing with our day-to-day lives. I find myself always having to step back and reorient to the fact that all your pushing and prodding is what you are SUPPOSED to be doing, and that it is up to me to direct it, not strong-arm you into submission. Unfortunately, this realization was not founded on my maternal wisdom, but on the fact that after losing the umpteenth battle of wills with you, realizing I needed a better strategy. See Stella? I’m growing up too.

pondering the tree

Your dad and I, although always amazed in your growth and abilities, have tried hard to continually praise you on your efforts rather than your accomplishments. I know this sounds wierd and new-agey, but it means something to us that you are not just blindly showered with praise for every detail of your existence (that is what your grandparents are for). We love you more than we ever could have imagined was even possible, and want you to know that we will be there for you to the ends of the earth. We also want you to know that your ability to be strong & independent, kind & compassionate, and wholly self-assured are things we strive to instill in you each and every day.

I know I spend the better part of my time waxing poetic on this site about the insane and frustrating things you do, but in reality you are one of the best things I have ever done in my life. My ranting has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. You see, I am new at this mom thing and, well, it isn’t as easy as it looks. Writing all this stuff down really helps me gain perspective, and allows me to glimpse how funny and tedious it all really is in the big picture…and how great a kid you really are. This next year is going to be a big one for all of us, and I know that you are going to make the best big sister ever.

Happy Birthday, Stelly.

stella smiling

The good, the bad and the Walstons.

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I really do wonder how it is that Stella conveniently reaches behind her left ear and switches the lever from “Angry, volatile toddler” to “Adorable, docile toddler” each time we put her into an environment where anyone else is looking (at least, anyone who read this blog) . From the moment we arrived at our first destination she instantly transformed into the child that would be – making sure that all of my previous rantings made me look whiny and petulant. The diabolical nature of a 2-year-old never ceases to amaze me. It wasn’t until we tried doing a little bit of light shopping on the way out of the bay area – and safetly out of earshot of anyone who mattered – that she reached back on around and flipped the switch back. Evidenced by the gaudy, pink glitter christmas ornament we had to purchase at Pier One because someone hucked it to the floor in a fit of rage.

And so the 2005 holiday season begins…

Nocturnal Activities

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The mind of an almost-two-year-old works in mysterious ways. And by mysterious, I mean maddening. The kind of maddening that makes people contemplate their own mortality: Why am I here? Why is she here? Why are we here together in the same room? It is one thing for her to throw herself onto the floor in a fit of rage during the middle of the day. Not exactly desireable, but tolerable nontheless. It is something totally different to have to deal with the spitting rage and fury at 2:30 in the AM. Noooooooo! Not that water bottle, THIIIIIIIISSSSS One! AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH! Come on Stella, it is 2:30 in the morning, I am over half asleep and it is pitch black, can you please cut me a tiny little break here? The worst part of these scenarios is that I have a relentless need to try to reason with her. In my mind, simply calming her is somehow a triumph on her part. My hubris does not allow for such things. She must calm down AND understand why it is that what she is doing is so supremely NOT OKAY. So here I am, wrestling the equivalent of a greased pig into her bed…at 2:30 in the morning, tightly telling her that she CANNOT do this. People are sleeping, it is dark, IT IS TIME FOR SLEEP.

Some of the slightly better (daylight) conversations between us at least get her thinking about the idea of cause and effect. Not to say that we actually reach a reasonable solution, but we are at minimum laying some groundwork.

Me: “Stella, you can’t take all your clothes off right now.”
Stella: “My NEEEEED to.”
Me: “Why?”
Stella: “Becaaaaauuuuuse…….YEAH!”

Not exactly a breakthrough in greater understanding, however it is progress. Sort of. Let me dream.

Our new camera: Capturing the insanity

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Lately our days are pretty much guaranteed to be filled with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. The frequency in which we have to tag-team through a project has become de riguer due to the fact that Stella has a way of making each of us (yes, even eternally patient Steve) reach the point where we are ready to turn in our parent card and send her back to the toddler factory – we’ll even pay the shipping. And if you think I am being dramatic for effect, you are very, very sadly mistaken. It has reached levels neither of us dreamed even existed. I won’t bore you with more details except to say that after a 20-minute, two-parent attempt to get her into her clothes this morning, Stella went to day care in nothing more than a shirt and a diaper (the rest of her outfit wadded in a ball and handed to Grani K as we came through the door).

Our new lives are defined by the following rules:

Nothing is simple.
Everything takes negotiation.

There is a quote that I have been told twice now; once from Anthony and once from my midwife:

“God makes them that cute so you don’t murder them.”

I am thinking of having a shirt made.

Stella, Our Lady of Sorrow

Moments of Peace

Another post where all I can ask is “WHY?”

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Why Stella, do you refuse to accept the fact that the time changed TWO WEEKS AGO and waking up at 5:20 EVERY MORNING EVEN ON THE WEEKENDS is not okay?

Why Stella, do you then stand in the hallway and cry as loudly as possible, eventually working yourself up into an inconsolable ball of fury when we try to convince you that it is still dark, and we are all still sleeping and you should be too?

Why Stella, do you constantly demand “My NEEEEED it, My NEEEEED it, My NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED it” when you want something?

Why Stella, do you require a full-scale wrestling match each morning in order to get you dressed?

Why Stella, do you then refuse to keep on any piece of clothing? Do you realize that when you stripped off your shirt and stuffed it in the play refrigerator at day care that it took TWO FULL DAYS to even find it?

Why Stella, do you refuse to let me near you with a barret or other hair restraint mechanism, let alone a pair of sharp, pointy scissors? [And let me just warn you of this: should you continue to be so stubborn you will most likely find yourself in a cattle squeeze-chute getting your hair cut.]

Why Stella, are there days where you can entertain yourself for hours, playing sweetly and quietly, then other days where you can’t take a single breath without one of us having to be there to share in the moment with you?

Why Stella, do you love peanut butter one day then look at it like it is toxic waste the next (then love it again the next day after that)? Will there ever be a food that we can rely on you to like EVERY DAY and not just the third Friday of the fourth month of the 16th year of the new millenium?

Why Stella, do you become sweet and charming, cute and playful, reasonable and polite whenever we take you to other people’s homes, thereby making us seem like the ones who are emotionally unstable? It is like being the parents of the Lex Luthor of the toddler world.

Why Stella, that’s all I want to know, just why?