"Just Ella"

As we drove to a school fundraiser the other night, the following conversation took place:

Ella:" Mom, I don't want to be Bonaldo anymore."
Me: "Okay, what do you want your last name to be?"
Ella: "No, I just want to be Ella."

This sort of conversation pretty much sums her up. As I've talked about endlessly on this blog, Ella B (excuse me, I mean "Just Ella") is a free spirit with a big personality. She knows exactly what she wants and doesn't want and isn't going to submit to any societal expectations, even when it comes to last names.

I saw her three-year-old personality in full force when we arrived at the restaurant for the fundraiser. She took her usual fifteen minutes to warm up to the crowd of teachers and students excitedly talking to her and telling her that they know me. She was not impressed by my apparent fame in the least. However, before I even realized it, she had shed her sweatshirt and was running around the restaurant in her super girl costume pretending to fly. She played a few rounds of hide and seek with a friend of mine, and downed an ice cream cone like it was her job. People were in awe of her: smile as wide as her face, tangled hair streaming behind her as she ran. She was captivating, mostly because she was doing whatever she wanted without worrying about what anyone thought (including the wait staff).

This display seemed incredibly appropriate given the event we were attending. As I said, it was a fundraiser for my school, but I didn't mention that it was for our PLAHD club, the gay-straight alliance that helps raise awareness and support for the LGBTQ community at our school. The club is not only for kids who are gay, but for anyone who supports the notion that we all deserve to live our lives free from discrimination, hate, and inequality based on sexual orientation, gender identity, etc.

It felt rather poignant, then, to see my daughter, entirely unaware of the fundraiser's purpose, running through a restaurant wearing a Halloween costume in March, being 100% herself just as all three-year-olds are. It got me thinking about when that all changes. At what point does it stop being okay to be ourselves? Sure, there are plenty of kids (these PLAHD club members to name a few) who refuse to let society stop them from being themselves, but we view them as kids who are making a decision to be individuals, and to some extent, making that decision may marginalize them. When will that happen to Ella? When will she have to stop and decide whether she's going to be herself or conform to some expectation of her culture or society? And what will she choose to do if being herself means being marginalized? Will she be confident enough to stay "Just Ella" if others decide they don't like what "Just Ella" stands for?

I mulled over these ideas as we enjoyed our sandwiches and fries, and some time after my friend left, Ella asked, "Where'd he go, Mommy?"  I told her he had to go home to, "have dinner with his husband." As soon as I said the words, I cringed at what her reaction would be. I assumed she would say something like, "Mommy, that's so silly! Boys don't have husbands!"

But she didn't say anything. She just kept on eating her ice cream cone as if I hadn't said anything funny at all. And I thought, wouldn't it be great if she grew up in a world where despite all the tough decisions she'll have to make about which parts of herself to let the world see, she won't have to worry about that one? Wouldn't it be great if being an openly gay teenager wasn't a brave decision?

I don't know how the world will view homosexuality in ten years. I hope that today is the beginning of something really positive, but I know there are still so many people out there who don't want a kid like Ella to be herself if being herself means offending their values. I'd like to think there is room in the world for a free spirit like Ella, but I just don't know. In the meantime, I hope "Just Ella" can find a way to keep wearing that super girl costume long after it doesn't fit. I hope she never lets it go.

Blizzard 2013

As I am writing this, I'm realizing that since I began this blog, I've written a lot of weather related posts. It's pretty amazing that in less than three years Ella has already lived through two hurricanes, a blizzard, and two Halloween snow storms. I don't know if it's global warming, but I do know that we've had some crazy weather up in here lately.

The blizzard may have been the craziest so far, at least where we live. I know Sandy did quite a number on some coastal towns, but for us, this was a bigger deal. Mike and I have never seen so much snow in our lives, and I guess that's what made it so exciting. We're use to watching her experience things for the first time, to see that glint of awe in her eyes, but this time, we all had that glint.The three of us couldn't stop staring out the window, watching the snow pour down from the sky, all of our eyes wide and our mouths dropped open.

Once the storm was over, the reality of three feet of snow set in. Ella wanted to go outside immediately, but Mike had a lot of work to do before that was possible. It took him about nine hours to snow blow the driveway, and Ella and I had to entertain ourselves with baking, and dancing, and painting, and coloring, and a whole lot of Toy Story and Ice Age. When we finally made it outside on Sunday, Beezer couldn't contain herself. She was so excited and immediately scurried on top of the three foot snow pile and proceeded to roll and flip and somersault her way into snow ecstasy. Mike decided to build her a snow fort, one my father would have hated, complete with secret underground tunnel ready to collapse at any moment. I watched from the house as they dug tunnels and threw snow balls at each other until he had to drag her inside for nap. She would have stayed out there forever.

The only bad part (besides all the snowblowing) was that Ella woke up on Friday with pink eye. So, there we were in the middle of a blizzard with no way to get any medicine. Luckily, I was able to get out Sunday morning, and I am so glad I did because I had never seen the world look like that before. It was so weird to see unplowed roads on every side of us, snow piles almost ten feet high, and more white than I could ever imagine.

A couple of warm days have melted a lot of the snow, and I can actually see some of our grass again. I'm glad it's almost over and I'll be getting back to work tomorrow, but I'm kind of glad I got to see the world looking so still and picturesque. I'm glad I got to see the world like Beezer does, full of wonder and amazement. The world through a three-year-olds eyes is pretty incredible.

Our first cooking adventure- Eggplant Parmesan. She was so serious about her jobs.

Yep, that's the snow line. Two feet.

That driveway takes a loooong time to snow blow

Inside the best fort ever. I'm kind of bummed it's all melted now.

Those three little hours

Sometimes Friday afternoons make me a little blue. Of course, I'm glad the week is over, and I'm looking forward to heading home, but I always get a little jealous of my kid-less friends who have plans to go out to dinner or to a movie, or to do something else fun. We don't get to go out a lot, and honestly, we don't even have the money for take out, and the thought of going home on Friday night and making chicken and broccoli just sounds a little bit depressing. On top of that, I'm tired after a long week, and though I'm excited to see the beezer, our afternoon times are not really the best. I feel like from the moment I pick her up to the moment she goes to bed, I pretty much spend the whole time arguing with her. She doesn't want to leave school (who can blame her- they have llamas and bearded dragons!), she doesn't want to get in the car, she doesn't want to go inside, she doesn't want to eat dinner, go potty, get in the bath, get her jammies on, go to sleep, etc! I feel terrible that I spend those two or three hours fighting with her, and sometimes I sort of dread going to get her, knowing that my exhausting week still isn't over yet.

Today I was definitely feeling those Friday blues, but this time I tried really hard to fight it. I tried to muster up the energy to be the best mom I could be for those three hours between pick up and bed time. So, when we got home, and Ella asked me to play with her, I didn't say, "No, Mommy has to make dinner." I said, "Sure. Let's go play." So we played until Mike got home, then hid in the tent and waited for him to find us. Then, all three of us played hide and seek until it was time for dinner. Little miss picky actually ate her whole dinner and asked for more, which has never happened in the history of forever. Then, we read a few books and headed upstairs.

After her bath, we read a few more books, and that's when the true cuteness began. She started "reading" the book, and by reading of course I mean that she has memorized some of the words, but when she is actually saying the exact words on the page, it's just about the cutest thing you've ever seen. Then, she started singing "The Wheels on the Bus" and shaking her hips on the bed. She ended all of this cuteness by giving me a hug and saying, "I'm glad you're here, Mom."

She's asleep now, and I can finally relax, and the whole afternoon made me realize that those three hours are pretty precious in my day, and even though I need to clean up and make dinner, and do a million other things, well, sometimes those things can wait, because Ella B is glad I'm here, and I'm glad, too.

Ella B Babysitting Survival Guide

Our friends are babysitting tomorrow night, and this is the list I compiled for them today. I didn't realize how insane we are until I finished writing it:

Ella B Babysitting Survival Guide

Here is your mission should you choose to accept it:

1.       Please feed the child dinner around 5-5:30. I have placed a box of macaroni and cheese on the counter. I would make her that, but if she refuses to eat it, she can also have hummus (straight up with a spoon), string cheese, a cheesy roll-up (slightly melted cheese in a tortilla), or basically whatever else you can get her to eat. Tell her she can only have a Popsicle or other treat if she eats dinner first. Have her sit at her table in the living room, and turn the TV so she can see it (Yes- I am aware that this is ridiculous. Thank you).

2.       Bring her upstairs around 6:15 and stop acting crazy! Transition into quiet time so she can wind down.

3.       Her pajamas, nighttime diaper, lotion, cream, and hairbrush are on our bed. You’ll need to set up her bed after she destroyed it during nap time. She will show you how it goes. She might ask you to face her pillow and everything else in the opposite direction. That’s fine. You’ll need to get a bottle ready. I left one for you on the counter. Fill it with 1% milk and heat it in the microwave for 20 seconds.   

4.       (If you decide to give her a bath) The water is temperature controlled, so it can’t get too hot. Turn it up all the way and fill the tub.

5.       You’ll have to chase her to get her clothes off and get her in the tub. Tell her, “Fine. I’m going to take a bath. Don’t come in the bathroom!”  and she will follow you in. Try to get her to pee on the potty before she gets in the tub, but if she says no, don’t make a big deal of it. Sometimes she likes to “pee like a boy" and face the other direction. That’s fine. I’m assuming you know how to give a bath, so I’ll leave the specifics out.

6.       After her bath, lotion her, brush her hair, put her diaper/cream, and jammies on. Ask her if she wants to watch a show or read a book before bed. She will probably say, “Watch a show.” Lie down with her and give her a bottle. When she’s done, brush her teeth, then let her brush her own teeth, and give her a sip of water. She’ll say she wants to watch another show, but don’t let her.  Let her press the button to turn off the TV.

7.       Bring her in her room and let her turn on her humidifier. Try to avoid letting her stall too much. Don’t turn on the lights. Keep it quiet. No goofiness. Give her three hugs and kisses. If she asks for a wipe to hold, that’s fine. If she asks for a band aid, she can have one. If she wants her hair in a ponytail, that’s fine. She’ll come up with as many things as possible to keep you in there, try to leave within five minutes. Leave the hall and bathroom lights on and ask her how much she wants her door open. She will make you adjust it several times. Ask her if she wants you to blow kisses to her on the way downstairs. Keep blowing them until you get to the bottom. Then say goodnight. She will ask you a few questions once you’re downstairs. Answer them from the bottom, and try not to go back upstairs. Answer and then say, “Okay, I have to go do my work now. I love you, goodnight.” You may have to just cut her off at some point.

8.       Close the French doors so she can’t hear you.

9.       At this point, try not to judge us too much.

10.  Dinner, dessert, and wine have been provided.

Be the Bigger B

I got some parenting advice after school today from a former teacher and current colleague of mine. He was talking about the difficulties of having a thirteen-year-old daughter and how much attitude and sass gets tossed around his house on the regular, and how he has to put the kibosh on it almost everyday. I said that I feel like Ella already has thirteen-year-old attitude, and I'm a little afraid of how much worse it can get.

Her newest thing is when she tells me something and if I say, "What?" she gets all upset and says, "I already telled you!" and refuses to repeat herself.

I was telling my colleague about how she refuses to sit at the table at dinnertime and will only eat sitting on the living room floor, or how she has to approve her outfit choices in the morning, or how every night we have to close her door the perfect amount- not too much, not too little, and how when we leave, we have to blow her kisses all the way downstairs. Sometimes we are allowed to use our hands to blow kisses, and sometimes we have to do it with just our lips.

Believe me, I know what you're thinking, but the truth is that these things just develop somehow. Kids are smart. They push you little by little, until one day you find yourself feeding a two-and-a-half year old a Popsicle on the couch.

I explained to my colleague that Ella is a lot of wonderful things, but she can also be a brat. If we went to high school together, she would have been that tough, pretty girl I was kind of afraid of. She might have been Parker Posey's character in Dazed and Confused, or Regina from Mean Girls. Okay, maybe she's more like Hermione Granger or Ferris Bueller's girlfriend, but still, she's an alpha female. She's Daphne, and I'm Velma. She's Kelly Taylor and I'm Brenda Walsh (Though in real life I think she'd be Shannen Doherty- that girl is scary).

The point is that sometimes Miss Ella B is kind of a bitch, a way better bitch than I am, to which my learned colleague replied, "Then you need to be a bigger bitch."

I realized in that moment that this is some of the best advice I've ever gotten. This light bulb went off in my head about what I need to do to reign this girl in. I have to learn how to be the bigger bitch. But realization is not enough here. I have to actually do it. I'm not sure how that's going to look yet, but I wanted to let you guys know that I'm going to work on it and see what I come up with. Stayed tuned for updates on my bitchiness. 

Elf on the Shelf: Creepy or Cool?

So we've started the Elf on the Shelf tradition for the first time. For those of you who don't know, the elf on the shelf is a manipulation tool to keep your kids from misbehaving...I mean, a cute holiday tradition to last throughout the years!

Basically, you read this story called The Elf on the Shelf and it explains how this elf will come to your house and watch you and then report back to Santa every night about whether you were naughty or nice. Each morning he flies back and reappears in a different part of your house.When you first see him, you have to give him a name, and you can never touch him or his magic will disappear.

So, we read the book, and then Mike and I chose a place to hide the Elf after Ella went to sleep. The next morning I said to her, "Let's go see where the elf is hiding!" to which she replied, "Does he have really sharp teeth?!"

When we found him, she asked if she could wave to him. I said yes, and then she said, "He's not waving back," all annoyed. She also wanted to know why he didn't talk or walk or move. She even made a creepy smiley face like the elf and said, "Why he go like this?"

When all the questions were over, I told her we had to give him a name.

"What do you want to name him, El?"
"Um...chair."
"Chair?"
"Yeah, chair."
"Well, chair's not really a name, buddy. What about something like Pedro?"
"No, his name's chair."
"Okay."

Luckily, she kind of forgot about the whole "chair" thing and ever since he has just been "elf." Most of the time, I think she knows he isn't real, but if I say, "Wait until I tell Chair what you did!" she just about loses it. "No, Mommy! Don't tell him!"

So, yeah. That's a thing that's going on in our house.

Wordless Sunday: Full Punky Brewster

She insisted on every piece of this outfit including the striped leggings you can't see. Also, she wore an Easter basket as a hat at the grocery store today. Her father was thoroughly embarrassed.

Potty Training 2.5

So, remember way back in the beginning of the summer when I talked about how one of our big summer goals was to really work on this whole potty training thing? Yeah, well, we're still kind of working on it. Now I know that it's totally normal for a two-and-a-half-year-old to still be in diapers, but the problem is that being fully potty trained doesn't even look like it's on our horizon.

She knows how to pee in the potty, and if you take her diaper off and leave it off, nine times out of ten she will remember she has to pee and run to the bathroom like a good little girl. I have gotten so confident about this that I've even let her ride home from school with no diaper on (if I know she already pooped and she pees one second before we leave). She pees pretty regularly at school, and we've set up the whole sticker chart thing with the promise of some sort of prize when she fills it up.  She likes to go to the bathroom alone, and she also likes to "pee like a boy" meaning she turns around and sits facing the back of the potty. Whatever, it's fine.

The problem is, she's really just not that into it. She loves the idea of wearing underwear, and she's very pleased with herself when she goes on the potty, but for the most part, she seems fine with the idea of wearing diapers for the rest of her life. 

I was looking at a development chart the other day and noticed that it says that most girls are potty trained at around thirty months. I did the math on my hands and realized that means Ella, right now. I think a little bit of egotistical panic set in because although I've always complained about how difficult Ella is, I've also always praised how early she did everything. She crawled before she was six months, she walked before she was eleven months, and she's been speaking in full sentences for what seems like forever. I have always felt a little secret pleasure about how "advanced" she is, and that's why this whole potty training thing is such a blow to my parent ego. This is the first time she isn't "early" and at this rate, she not only won't be right on time, but she'll be the dreaded "late." I'm used to so many difficult things with Ella, but I'm not use to worrying about when she's going to reach a milestone.

I think the problem is that potty training requires cooperation. You can force your child to be sleep trained (with a lot of screaming), or to sit for time out (with more screaming), or to wear a coat when it's cold out (sort of), but there is no amount of bribing, pleading, yelling, or dancing that will make a child pee or poop on the potty if she doesn't want to. So I guess it makes sense that this is the developmental roadblock for us, because Miss Ella B understands that this is something she has control over, and this lady likes to be in control. 

So, we're working on it, but I know my little girl, and pushing the issue is not going to work with her. Perhaps the promise of a trip to the chicken nugget store or a new set of batteries for her flashlight will do the trick. She may be stubborn, but she's not made of stone.

I'm just kidding

Here is the conversation Ella and I had on the way home from school this afternoon after the owner of our daycare gave her two new dolls:

Me: What's the little dolly's name?
Ella: I don't know her name.
Me: You get to give her a name.
Ella: Give her a name?
Me: Yeah. What do you want her name to be?
Ella: Ummmm...ABCDE.
Me: ABCDE?
Ella: Yeah, just E.
Me: E?
Ella: Yeah.
Me: Okay, what about big dolly? What do you want to name her?
Ella: Name her?
Me: Yeah. What names do you like?
Ella: I like blue.
Me: Blue?
Ella: Yeah. Her name's Blue.
Me: Okay, E and Blue.
Ella: Yeah. This is E and this is Blue.

We both allowed some time for these new names to sink in and to enjoy the pitter patter of rain on the roof and the swooshing of the windshield wipers before continuing our conversation. 

Me: What should we make for dinner?
Ella: Macaroni and poop!
Me: Macaroni and poop?
Ella: No, I'm just kidding Mommy.
Me: Okay, good.

Another day in the riveting life of Jeni and Ella. Stay tuned for the next episode.

Pancakes for dinner

Last night, Ella B and I were fortunate enough to have dinner at Chip's in Milford with my girlfriend Wendy and her twin boys, Robby and Joey, or "RobbyJoey" as Ella would call them. It was a fundraiser for our school and a good excuse to eat pancakes for dinner. Ella B was surprisingly well behaved in her own two-year-old way. Besides refusing to sit down, bothering the woman in the booth behind us, and pressing her face up against the glass a few times, she was pretty good. Robby and Joey, who are five and much more well-behaved than Ella, kept saying things like, "Mom, why is Ella doing that?" and, "Miss Jeni, look what Ella's doing!" 

Finally, at the end of the meal, when I was feeling pretty good about that fact that I didn't have to drag Ella out of there kicking and screaming and that I actually ate my entire meal in a reasonable amount of time, Robby announced, "I don't think Ella's gonna be going to any restaurants any time soon."

It appears that Robby is a much stricter parent than I am. Luckily for Ella, she gets to come home with me.

Special Things

On Saturday we were outside playing with bubbles, one of Ella's biggest obsessions. She recently acquired a battery-powered bubble gun (aka- we just put batteries in a bubble gun she got a million years ago) that shoots a stream of bubbles with a squeeze of a button. This is pretty much heaven as far as she's concerned, mostly because she doesn't know how to blow bubbles herself and gets frustrated every time she tries to do it until she looks at me and declares, "It's not working." There aren't a lot of perfect antidotes to toddler problems, but in this case, there is. A seemingly endless stream of bubbles that requires not blowing and no help from mommy. That is perfection. 

After a while, she got bored of simply blowing the bubbles and wanted to chase them. I dutifully took command of the gun and blew the bubbles in her direction as she gleefully chased them amidst the ever-changing wind. At some point it dawned on her that she was no longer in possession of the gun and ran over to me shouting, "That's my bubble thing, Mommy. It's special to me. It's my special thing." Michael and I tried to stifle our laughter as best we could. Where did she get that one? How does she know the word special? As with most things, I realized she had learned something from me quite by accident. I thought about all the times I asked her not to touch my wedding rings, or a small elephant that was my grandmother's. "These things are special to mommy." Her slow and systematic acquisition of language and social understanding never ceases to amaze me. She realizes that certain things are valuable and worth protecting, and in the toddler Universe, a bubble gun ranks right up there at the top of the list.

I started thinking about what other things might be valuable to her: Her Marcia blanket (made by her teacher at school), and her Nene blanket (given to her by my mother) for sure, her Dora umbrella and raincoat, rocks, dandelions, worms we collect to put in the vegetable garden, her playground, squirrels, socks, Goodnight Gorilla and Marley book, her trampoline, the kitchen chair she uses to help me make dinner, as many kisses as she can steal from her father before bed ("Just one more"), having breakfast with Nene and Pop Pop on Sunday mornings, and that big blue house she calls her home ("Yay! I see our house, Mommy").

These are some of her special things, and I know that I rank pretty high on that list, too. And that's good because Ella B, you are my most special thing of all.

A Good Eater

Ella B is what you might call "a good eater." This is not to say she doesn't have her moments where she will proclaim, "Don't like it," when I try to get her to eat the hummus she eats every single day, but her refusal of food is more about attitude than pickiness. In general, she will eat almost anything: salad, cheeseburgers, asparagus, miso soup, and she even speared her first tuna roll with a chopstick the other night.

She also loves the preparation of food as much as I do. Each night, she "helps" me make dinner and despite the fact that she is the worst sous chef I've ever worked with, she is still pretty awesome. I recently gave her a tutorial on removing edamame from their pods. It's adorably sad to watch her work so hard at something that seems so simple to me. She couldn't quite grasp the concept of applying pressure to one end of the pod to push the soybean out of the opening. She just kept squeezing the entire thing until it exploded in any direction across the room, and I was sent to retrieve them. Cooking with a toddler is a messy process, but something I find so rewarding, especially when Michael comes home and from her little perch on the chair against the island she tells him, "Daddy, I made you dinner!" with that little grin on her face.

I'm so thrilled to already have an adventurous eater because adults or children who won't try new foods is probably one of my biggest pet peeves of all time. I'd love to think that my children will grow up loving vegetables and ethnic foods and that we won't have to order chicken nuggets wherever we go until they are 27. I also think that teaching my children how to prepare food with love is one of the most important life skills I can give them, and I hope she will always feel that pride of accomplishment in preparing a meal when she grows up, whomever she might be cooking for. Hopefully, I'll get to sit at that table with her.

Wordless Wednesday: Funny Face

And then the world did not end...

So, as you might have guessed, Ella B and I both survived our time apart. Luckily, the training was unbelievably valuable, so my time away from her was not wasted, especially since she barely even noticed. Her days were filled with lots of Nene cuddles and presents and a trip to Robby and Joey's house, or "RobbyJoeyhouse" as Ella would say. The picture above is the result of an afternoon spent with Wendy, the mother of two five-year-old boys who doesn't play with little girl hair very often. Keep in my mind that this child throws a fit when I try to even put one ponytail in her hair and would rather spend her day pushing her locks out of her face like a two-year-old Justin Bieber. Note to self: Must study Wendy. Learn her secrets.

I couldn't wait to get home and hold that little nugget in my arms again, but of course she had to make me suffer. She pretty much wanted nothing to do with me for a good hour and only wanted to be in my mother's arms. Luckily, Arlo and Violet were playing outside and after a few minutes of pretending to be frogs and picking berries, things were back to normal.

There was, however, one more bit of punishment. At bath time, Ella B decided this night would be a good time to poop in the tub for the first time. I know, we're lucky we made it nearly two years without such an incident, but still, the timing was flawless. Michael was overjoyed. But as cheesy as it sounds, even when I'm scooping her poop with my hands, I couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

PS- Happy 100th blog post to me!

My heart breaks a "little, tiny bit."

Check out the picture above. I'm getting ready right now to leave that little nugget for three days. I know. Craziness. I have to go away for training and I am leaving Ella B for three nights and three days. I have never been away from her for more than a day, so as you might imagine, I'm a little bit anxious. Will Michael remember to brush her teeth? Will she freak out when I'm not there in the morning to snuggle her? Will her shirt match her pants? Will she match too much? Obviously the world is going to end while I'm gone. So, I spent the day trying to soak up all the Ella B love I could get, and of course she seemed double extra cute today.

We began with a solid snuggle on the couch while we watched Dora and split a clementine. Then she was all giggles and smiles at the diner. Before nap, we spent a good hour looking for worms underneath all the rocks in the yard, and as we speak she has just woken up and is sitting on my lap eating my slices of apple and cheddar while I type this with one hand. I'm loving her so hard right now.
Of course I know that Michael is more than capable of caring for our child and Mr. cool as a cucumber isn't worried about a thing, but while she loves both of us, she is definitely a momma's girl. Lately she's been saying "a little, tiny bit" for when she wants more of something, like, "a little, tiny bit of milk," or, "a little, tiny bit of cupcake batter." So, I think it's only fitting to say that when I leave today, my heart is going to break just "a little, tiny bit." Luckily, that tiny face will be here when I get back to mend it.

What she said...

In the house of the increasingly verbal (almost) two-year-old, the days are filled with hilarious comments, questions, and exclamations. Ella pretty much never stops talking or singing and I'm pretty sure she's had the alphabet song stuck in her head for going on three weeks. Every now and then she'll look up and scream out a few letters: "XYZ!", "LaMenoP!". She loves to ask what things are or who someone is and to repeat everything we say no matter how difficult. The cutest part is that everything she says goes up at the very end into this adorably high little question mark. Here are a few of my favorites from the weekend:

When asked what she wanted to eat as a snack she said, "Gorgonzola!"

As we left the diner this morning after breakfast she said, "See you later Diner."

After placing about six stickers on my face she began laughing and said, "You're a funny clown."

While reading The Wild Things last night, she saw the picture of the sea monster with the goatee and said, "Oh dinosaur needs a haircut."

While walking up the steps this afternoon she began counting, "Uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco, seis." Spanish. The girl can count in Spanish.

While riding in her stroller around the block she looked up at me and said, "You're awesome, mommy."

Thanks bud. You're awesome, too.

Wordlessish Wednesday

Text is unrelated to pics, but I just had to share. Today I had to take Ella to the doctor and when I told her we were going to see the doctor she said, "Dr. Seuss?" No, buddy, sorry. Not Dr. Seuss.

Enjoy a few pics of Ella "doing the dishes," also known as "Ella covering already clean dishes in soap."

K.I.M.

A few weeks ago we went to the Maritime Aquarium (or the "K.I.M" as Ella calls it) with Andrea, Steve, Arlo, and Violet. The kids had a great time looking at the fish, turtles, otters, and everything else aquatic. I was most excited about the stingray pool where we got to dip our hands in and touch their slimy backs. Ella kept putting her hands in and saying "touch them, touch them," but as soon as they'd swim over, she would get scared and pull her hands away.

For some reason there was also meerkat exhibit at the aquarium so we got to chill with some cute rodents, too. They had one of those plastic domes underneath the exhibit that we got to sit inside and watch the meerkats from.

We finished with a trip to the gift shop to pick up some pirate tattoos and called it a day. We left at 12:30 and Ella was asleep in her carseat by 12:45. All in all, a pretty successful first trip to the aquarium (I mean, K.I.M). The best part is that now when she swims in the bathtub she likes to say she "swims really fast like an otter." Of course, this has trickled into other parts of her life so that she now does everything "really fast like an otter" such as coloring or mixing eggs for an omelet. As far as she's concerned, otters are the fastest things ever. So, there's that.

This Week in Cuteness

The other day someone asked us which age has been the best so far for raising a munchkin. Mike and I didn't even need to make eye contact before saying, "This one." Some people are baby people. I assume those people don't care about sleep, or have bad hearing, or maybe they are composed of mostly robot parts. Most likely, they had even-tempered babies and, therefore, a very different experience than I had. You all know the stories, so I won't bore you with them again. The point is that Mike and I have finally gotten to that place where we think to ourselves and out loud, "God damn Ella B, you are so freaking cute. Just stay like this forever." Toddlerhood is where it's at as far as we're concerned and it just keeps getting more hilarious every day. I thought I'd take a few minutes to share this week's cuteness update with you.

1. The Hokey Pokey- The other day she started doing it in the driveway, singing along and putting her two little pointer fingers in the air as she twirled around.
2. The picture- She has started drawing people and, specifically, her family on a regular basis. It might not look like much to you, but I actually saw her draw Mike's head and then say, "Daddy's beard" as she scribbled on the bottom of his face. She drew herself much smaller because, "Daddy big. Ella little." Obviously.
3. Family- This is her new favorite word and now we have to do lots of things as a "family." Wednesday night we all had to blow on her dinner to cool it down as a family and then we had to have a big family "Rawr!" session in which we all pretend to be dinosaurs. Before bed we have to have a "family hug."
4. Yesterday morning when she woke up at 5:30 she looked at me from her crib and said, "party time."
5. Potty- she has become increasingly interested in the potty and actually peed in it two nights ago. When she sits on it she pushes as hard as she possibly can to make something come out. She was very proud of herself when it actually worked.

That's about it for the weekly update. Hope your life is filled with as much cuteness as mine is!

A post my husband will love

There is nothing my husband loves more than to prove me wrong (and to keep reminding me about it). So, here you go Michael. You were right. Bringing Beezer to the Poconos was not a total disaster. And yes, I did have a lot of fun. Okay? Enough.

Rewind to about a month ago when Alex and Larry asked us if we wanted to spend the weekend in the Poconos with them and a few of their friends. Of course, Alex and Michael were in cahoots from the very beginning trying to figure out how to convince me to go. Truth be told, I didn't want to go. Well, I didn't want to go with Beezer. I wasn't looking forward to a three-hour road trip with a toddler, or figuring out how to get her to sleep in a strange place, or how to keep everyone quiet after seven without being a total jerk, or how to stay up late and still get up early and not be a crab the next day.

Clearly, I was not too keen on the idea, but my eternally non-nonchalant husband finally wore me down and I agreed to go. I was most worried about the drive down, but thank God for portable DVD players and big bags of Goldfish. I sat in the back so I could entertain her and keep her company. I asked her about her day, sang songs, and danced to the radio until she looked at me, pointed at the front seat and said, "Mommy- up there." From that point on she was in Kai-Lan/Diego/Dora/Blue's Clues lala land. Feel free to judge. I don't care.

Once we got there it was straight to bed. The next morning was a little rough as we'd stayed up until 1:30 and then Beezley decided to get up at 5:15. That hurt. But once everyone else woke up and Ella got used to all the people, she become her little hammy self and captured everyone's attention. She especially loved the boys and always wanted to be in "Larry's room." She insisted on eating Alex's ice cubes and touching Kofi's puffy slippers.

The best part of all came when Genny, Jake, their baby Penny, and their dog Grizzly showed up. Ella fell in love with Grizzly and wouldn't leave him alone. The rest of us fell in love with four month old Penny and wouldn't leave her alone. She never knew who would be holding her next. I was pretty impressed with Ella for letting me hold Penny for quite a while. A good sign for the future, I hope. It was also nice to have other parents there who understood the importance of little person sleep. Also, I'm pretty much in love with my new friend Genny.

So, overall it was a successful trip. The weekend was filled with tiny giggles, awesome food, silly games, too little sleep, and a lot of really great people, and we would have really missed out on a good time if we'd stayed home. Thank you Michael for making me go.