Category Archives: Stella

Keep her away from the sugar.

The Walstons Take a Walk

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Ever since Stella discovered the joy of riding on two wheels she has insisted on going on the evening walk with bike in tow. Then Porter insists on taking his bike. At this point you might as well invite a venomous snake and a couple of circus performers, because this parade ain’t going nowhere but straight to Crazy. Trying to coordinate a consistent pace is virtually impossible due to the fact that A.) Stella rides like a bat out of hell, B.) Porter alternately rides for about 13 seconds and the demands you carry the bike, C.) The dog about loses his mind because he JUST WANTS A DECENT WALK ALREADY!

stella
(click photo to see the entire set)

Never a Dull Moment

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Hoo boy! Have I been cashing in some serious parenting points this summer. So far, I have accumulated two child-free outings, leaving Steve alone to play zone defense with our sweet but endlessly spunky children. He hasn’t complained even once, and has even been remarkably encouraging. Stupid? Generous? Just plan crazy? I’ll let you be the judge.

My first trip was a couple of weeks back when I went to Mendocino to celebrate Shannon’s 40th birthday. Then, this past weekend I traveled to the Russian River Valley to meet up with my mom and sister for some bonding time that I have been prohibited by law and notarized confidentiality release to ever detail here on these pages. I was allowed to take pictures, but chose to carefully parse and edit them according to the guidelines enumerated in clauses 3, 7, 9 and 14 – pretty much all the clauses pertaining to “excessive ridiculosity”. Instead, you are left with the safe-for-general-consumption set – which should give you some perspective when you get to the photograph of the heart-shaped sign that reads “Tattoos”.

And that’s about all I am legally authorized to report about that.

natalie, celene, dani
(click photo to see full set)

I arrived home to find that not only had my family survived weekend number two (complete with a birthday party outing), but that Stella had lost yet another tooth, AND had learned to ride her bike without training wheels – ALL WITHIN A MATTER OF THREE DAYS! She and Steve had this hilariously choreographed set-up wherein he was going to ask me to stand out on the front porch and chat with him while Stella retrieved her bike from the edge of the yard and then nonchalantly ride down the street in front of the house. Unfortunately their plan hit a small snag when Stella was unable to get the kick-stand up and Steve had to run down there to assist her. The whole thing became so ridiculously adorable, I could hardly contain myself. I couldn’t have imagined a better homecoming.

After dinner and bath I had Steve shoot a little bit of footage, including a quick interview before she and I headed out for our evening dog-walk / bike-ride. Pretty much the only thing missing is a yellow jersey.

Gueth What!?

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Stella has about 5 teeth at varying stages of looseness. This front one kind of twisted its way out; at one point it was practically at a 90 degree angle to the rest of her teeth. Likewise, the others are moving around in such a way as to create strange gaps and craters. Every time I look at her I end up having to do a double-take, and can’t help but wonder what her new smile will look like. Whatever the case, she stands to make a tidy profit on the whole affair.

PS: If you are wondering about that curious black blob on her right cheek you should probably ask her father. I left her alone with him for 30 minutes while I ran to Target, and came home to find her amply adorned in temporary tattoos and Porter wearing nothing but a diaper. Oh, wait, that’s right – Porter doesn’t ever wear clothes. Silly me.

stella

stella

He Screams, He Spits, He Wins!

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My son works in rage the way an artist might work in paint or clay. He has mastered it’s subtle nuances and can often bring it to a level that could only be truly achieved by someone who has years perfecting the art of losing one’s shit. Some people take a lifetime to gain this kind of mastery. My son? Yeah, he’s three. On the rare occasions that I choose to actually go to battle with him, I usually end up losing in a bloody blaze of defeat. Most days, I have learned to do my best to stay out of the way. Like right now? Um, he’s sitting at the table eating a bowl of pesto. Not pesto PASTA, just pesto. The battles I choose only tend to be engaged when someone’s life is in danger. Death by garlic breath is not one of them.

Yesterday I had the lucky opportunity of being beaned in the back of the head with a shoe that was hurled from the backseat, which was the preceding act to completely unbuckling the top half of his carseat restraints and beginning to writhe out of the bottom half. All this was over a smoothie that he said he didn’t want, then decided he did, then didn’t, then did, then didn’t. Then I put my foot down, left the drive-through and drove away. Right about the time that I realized the screaming was actually accompanied by a carseat houdini act, I had no choice but to pull over and engage on a full-on wrestling match with my screaming, spitting, firebreathing child – all within just feet of the cars breezing past me on the freeway.

So, you can imagine my joy and anticipation when Steve announced last Friday that he wanted to take both kids to the fair with him. Out of a sense of guilt duty I offered to accompany him, even though this whole fair thing has kind of been established as his own special kid-bonding experience. I knew that him, alone with both children in this overstimulated environment was a disaster in the making. But hey, maybe I was over-reacting, right?

Let’s just say that $75 and 2 hours later, we emerged from the fairgrounds dirty, sticky, tear-streaked and just barely clinging to life.

I did my best to try and take pictures of the moments when the kids were actually smiling. You know, trying to just remember the good times. After all, Isn’t that rule #1 in the parenting manual?

stella

porter