Category Archives: Stella

Keep her away from the sugar.

The case of Walston v. Walston

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Witness Exhibit A:

stella

I’d like you to draw your eye, specifically, to one sage green overall dress (“the dress”) that has been in said subject’s closet for close to 6 months now; unworn, unseen, unloved.

Now, may I present Exhibit B:

stella

I invite you to pay special attention to the location of the pockets of “the dress” (approaching the middle of the back), indicating the notable size incongruity between “the dress” and the person on whose body it currently resides.

May I present to the jury that on roughly 6,457 occasions over the past 6 months, it has been suggested that the subject wear “the dress”, to which, the response has consistently and resoundingly been “NOOOOOOOO!” May it also be stated that this may be the only child on the planet who, with some regularity, has to be bribed with coins to wear various pieces of her own clothing.

May I present to the jury that on this, the 20th day in the 12th month of the year 2006, said subject INSISTED that she wear “the dress” regardless of the fact that it was indicated that it’s size was no longer adequate, and the side fastening devices could not be adequately secured. And, let it further be stated that, much to parental dismay, “the dress” was worn to school.

I ask the jury to overlook the subject’s doe eyes and bubbly personality, and find her guilty of being three.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Stella!

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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

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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…

The Alien Abduction

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As a kid, I remember my mother being an insanely light sleeper. It would not be at all uncommon for me to wake up in the middle of the night, pad into their bedroom and just stand there – knowing that it was prohibited for me to wake them up for something as trivial as warning them of the three-headed axe-wielding alien laying in wait outside my window. Instead I would just stand there. Being in their presence for 5 or 10 minutes would inevitably allow me the courage to head back to bed with the confidence that I would not be eaten in my sleep. This time.

More times than not, the next morning the conversation would go a little like this:

Mom: “Why did you come into our room last night?”
Me: “How did you know I was there?”
Mom: “I could hear you breathing.”

I have been a fairly solid sleeper most of my life, and as I neared the end of my pregnancy with Stella I began to wonder how that would impact my ability to tend to the nightly rituals of feeding and whatnot. Along with the many other physiological changes that take place once one becomes a mother, sleep habits become irretrievably fouled. I now wake up at the sound of Stella’s footsteps before she even leaves her bedroom. Basically, I can hear her breathing.

So you will understand how disturbed I was this morning when I woke up with the distinct feeling that sometime during the night I was abducted by aliens. Here is what I remember. I went to bed at 10-ish, and at some point I remember waking up realizing that not only was Steve to my right, but Stella was to my left (first of all, how did she get there, and secondly, why is it I am always the one stuck in the middle?). Then, there was some point at which I heard Porter making his thumb-chewing noise. Then, the next thing I know, it is 6:15, I am alone in bed and Steve is telling me to get up, already. And all I can think is Where is Stella? How did she get into our bed? When did she get into our bed? When did she get out of our bed? Did Porter sleep all night? COULD SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON?

Steve said that he got up with Stella twice, and then at 12:30 I let her get into bed with us (which, knowing my policy on this issue, he said completely baffled him). Porter got up at 4:30, and when Steve put him back to bed at 5:30, he moved Stella into her bed. Then, she didn’t get up until almost 7:00! AS IN, 2 HOURS PAST 5:00! Okay, this is just getting wierd.

So can someone please explain to me how he who sleeps with a giant, noisy wind machine strapped to head head wakes up for all this activity and I don’t? Was there a roofie slipped into that handful of M&M’s I ate after dinner? And, NO, I know what you are all thinking: I wasn’t drinking!

I guess, instead of obsessing about all of this I should be rejoicing. My son slept from 8 to 4:30 without the aid of any painkillers, I was able to actually sleep with my daughter in bed next to me, and I clocked 8 straight hours of sleep with only some minor disturbances.

Maybe I’ll have a shirt made: I was abducted by aliens and all I got was a good night’s sleep