Is there an amount of sour cream that could become potentially toxic to a toddler? I would venture that most of us consider it a condiment to go with whatever we are consuming at the moment. In Stella’s world, sour cream is the main dish and the accompanying food as simply a vessel with which she can consume the sour cream. Dip. Slurp. Dip. Slurp. Dip. Slurp. Usually for each individual black bean she will consume roughly a quarter cup of sour cream – taking double-dipping to a whole new level. When the tediousness of using food starts getting to her (and it always does), she digresses to using a finger. If anyone has heard of death by overdose of sour cream, now would be a good time to let me know.

At least once every day, I accuse Steve of being a drama queen. It has even gotten to the point where I don’t even have to say anything – I just look at him and do the international symbol for drama queen-ish behavior: jazz hands. He tries to deny it, but the truth is self evident. No one wears the crown like my man.

Along with the wide grin and the tall-girl gene, Stella has also inherited her daddy’s flair for the dramatic. Her ability to assess a situation and work it is quickly being honed. She has recently learned the power of the word ‘hurt’. “Teeth hurt!” “Toe hurt!” “Arm Hurt!” You name it, this girl is hurtin’ from it. It is getting to the point where she will come running in, telling us of the latest ailment she has contracted (no Stella, your hair cannot hurt) and all we do is look at her like “Yeah, right. I fell for that the first 37 times, but you can’t fool me this time.” Her favorite time to use this tactic? You guessed it: Nap Time. Funny how laying in her bed seems to trigger her chronic elbow pain.

Once again I must refer to those sage parenting books. None of them seem to mention the fact that as of age 21 months, your child will begin to manipulate you like a wad of play dough. I keep looking at that cute little cherubic face and wonder “what is going through that brain of yours?” More and more she looks me straight in the eye with a slowly emerging smile, indicating one thing: be scared.