Happy 3rd Birthday, Stella!

Hi Stelly,

Last weekend you turned three.

stella

It was intended as a low-key affair, with a few of your peeps from the inner circle, and one set of grandparents. However, this party was a testament to the fact that birthday fun is in no way limited by small numbers. That day, the four of you were only beaten in energy production by THE SUN. Had we actually invited your entire class from school, there is a good chance that we would have been able to sell back some kilowatt hours.

As you peruse the photos from this year’s festivities, don’t be too alarmed when you stumble across the photos of your “birthday cake”. You’ll note that I put birthday cake in quotes to signify that it is wholly innacurate to consider this thing a celebratory confection. I saw the writing on the wall when you insisted that, this year, you wanted a round cake with a ladybug. Stella, there is a reason you have had cupcakes for your first two birthdays: I am not a particularly good baker. Furthermore, I am horrid at frosting and decorating cakes. Your father – ripe with naiveté – decided it couldn’t be THAT hard. HA. Well, it tasted good – nevermind the pools of strawberry cream cheese frosting encircling the entire base of the cake, or that the two layers had to be held together with sawed-off bamboo skewers, or that it was adorned with creepy red and black bugs with sharp and pointy claws. The latter of which, I am sure will give you nightmares for a while. The lesson here is that I need to Mom-up and get better at this whole birthday cake thing, or you are destined for a life of disfigured cakes with depictions of abstract buttercream motifs. And, I love you just too much to let that happen.

This past year has been full of so many big changes for you. I have watched you go from toddler to girl, and then some. You are silly and fun and stubborn and smart. Oh girl, are you smart. Listening to you talk – how you say your words, and string thoughts together reminds me, daily, just how much you are growing up. And, this year you were thrown the mother of all curve-balls: a younger brother. It has been a joy to watch you fill the role of big sister. As these pages will attest, it has been bumpy, but hopefully it is also clear that it has been fun, and overwhelmingly joyful to watch our family take form. Through all the chaos, arises my admiration for you, and what a great girl you are becoming. In case you, or anyone else out there is wondering – yes, I know how lucky I am.

Happy day, sweet girl.

Oh, Tannenbaum

And as for this year’s Christmas tree outing, I think this photo about sums it all up:

stella steve and the tree

Little did we know that part of Stella’s vision of selecting a Christmas tree involved having to touch every tree on the lot. Twice. Thusly, you can imagine the argument that ensued once Steve and I presented our selection for her appraisal before she had completed her mission. (See preceding photo.) As a sign of protest, she kicked and spit at every tree she passed on the way back to the car. If I’d have gotten my way she would have been secured to the top of the car with orange baling twine whilst the tree rode shotgun next to Porter.

And now, to decorate…

And the 2006 Thanksgiving Holiday awards go to…

(in no particular order)

Steve Walston. For spending approximately 14 hours in the back seat of a car with both Walstonlings, and never once threaten to throw himself onto I-5. For keeping with Walston tradition, and managing to nearly sever his head from his body with a hand-saw while pruning the olive tree. For finally getting a haircut like George Clooney. For managing to elude yet another Scrabble-death-match with Dani.

Stella Walston. For being, by far, the most patient, pleasant and well demeanored passenger in the car. Both ways. For giving the “you. here. now” finger-point to unsuspecting Thanksgiving diners, requesting their participation in the Elephants on a String dance. For convincing her Grandma Judy that it was a good idea for the two of them to sleep in a twin bed together. For gracefully handling her first major holiday not as an only child.

Porter Walston. For being saddled with an ear infection before, during and after the visit. For diligently continuing to work on his goal of achieving Most Distance Scooted Either Sideways or Backwards. For tolerating being licked on the face, repeatedly, by Lily. For enduring (and surviving) his first official Walston-Anderson family holiday.

Judy Walston. For being out of her ever-loving mind and volunteering, nay, demanding that she and Bill give up their room (and obscenely large bed) in order to sleep in the spare room. On twin beds. With both grandchildren. All night. ALL THREE NIGHTS. For being barked at, ordered around and pestered relentlessly by a bossy three-year-old, and acting as though it were a priviledge. For not falling out of her chair when son and daugher-in-law showed her the price range of the properties they have been coveting. For displaying all of Stella’s mud pies decoratively on a cake pedestal.

Bill Walston. For being out of his ever-loving mind for letting his wife convince him that the aforementioned plan was actually a good idea. For single-handedly doing about 600 loads of dishes. For giving Stella’s nose back each and every time he took it. For being the ultimate good sport in all of the things he was cajoled into doing.

Andy Anderson. For playing human jungle-gym even though it nearly snapped his entire body in half. For teaching Stella the Neener-Neener game (for which, he will pay dearly). For cooking the stuffing on the barbeque when oven space became scarce. For hosing down the gigantic mess that was made when someone dropped the leftovers container of green-bean casserole on the patio.

Dani Anderson. For planning, and shopping, and cooking and cleaning, and then planning some more, and shopping some more, and in the end, pulling it all together to host 16 people to Thanksgiving dinner. For doing all of this even though it meant having to sacrifice her precious grandchild hours which, incidentally, was not compensated for by sleeping with Stella-the-sideways-sleeper. For allowing Steve to not have his ass kicked in Scrabble. Again.

Scott Walston. For repeatedly punching his “family time” timecard. For being yelled at NOT to clear tables. For always being the tallest guy in the room.

Honorable Mentions going to…

Sharan Benson. For providing a pumpkin cheesecake that, due to it’s most insanely pleasurable deliciousness, will probably send all of us straight to food rehab for even walking by it at the dessert table. For providing the most amazing gravy 911 of all time.

Gailie & Annie. For not only hauling themselves to this shindig, but also subjecting their families to the look-at-my-granchild-fest that these things always turn out to be.

Note to all recipients: “Gizzard”, your gilded turkey statuette shall be forthcoming.

Cue excessively long photo montage.