Shock and Awe

Tags

Ella, Target

I’m certain she was going for shock and awe.  Because seriously, there is just no other reason for it. 

Imagine my darling little two year old girl.  So sweet.  So sweet in fact that I allowed her to walk about the Target instead of being strapped into the grocery cart like normal (which in hindsight would have prevented this entire affair).  Yes, imagine her… gazing into the mirror at the checkout at Target. 

Oh, you didn’t know there were mirrors at the checkout?  I didn’t either, until I looked down to see my darling little sweetie pie admiring herself in one of them…batting her eyelashes, talking to herself, posing.  And then.

And then, (I can hardly type this) she stuck out her tongue and ran it the entire length of said mirror. 

You know how you have those dreams where you’re trying desperately to run but your legs feel like they’re full of sand, and you can’t move?  Right.  That’s pretty much how I felt.  I might have screamed a little.  Because there were a lot of people looking at me right then…

What possesses a child to do such a thing?  I mean seriously?  Licking a mirror? 

I have to go now.  I have to go clean something.  Anything.

It’s going to be a good day. I can tell.

Tags

Ella, Henry, tantrums

Because Ella Louise got up at 5:30.  Or some other ungodly hour.  I know, because I got up a little bit before her, and I was huddled under a blanket downstairs.  But I couldn’t see the clock because my eyes were frozen because the thermostat is all messed up so the heat was not heating.   

The Man put her back to bed.  Then he got in the shower. 

Then Ella Louise got up again. 

Then I put her back to bed. 

Then Ella Louise got up again. 

Then I put her back to bed again. 

Then Ella Louise got up again. 

Then The Man had had enough of that business and brought her downstairs.  She snuggled right up to me on the couch because it was still slightly freezing.  And also, she was trying to butter me up.

Then the morning continued normally.  Until we went to the bus stop.  Which is when Ella Louise decided that she would be riding the bus to school today.  Only she’s two, and doesn’t go to school.  So I carried her, kicking and screaming, all the way home, laughing at what the neighbors must think.  Whatever.

Then Ella Louise had a second breakfast, which Henry made for her.  I was going to do it, but he insisted.  Then sweet little Ella Louise tried to push Henry off the chair, for what reason I do not know.  Then she threw a tantrum because she wanted to write thank you notes like Henry.  I gave her a note card and a red pen. 

Moments later, Henry was over there throwing a fit about the wii game not working.  So I diverted my attention for 4 seconds to help him, and came back to find Ella with a pair of scissors, trying to cut her jammies.  Luckily, she is not too skilled with the scissors.

She is drawing happy faces right now, and brushing her hair from her face the way she does.  And I think she looks like a complete angel in her pink teddy bear jammies.

What it’s like around here all day. Pass the wine.

Tags

Ella, two year olds

Enter the two year old. 

“Help me.”

“Heellllp me.”

“Hellllllllllllllllllllp meeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

“Oh, sorry.  What?  What do you want help with Ella?”

“Help me peas mommy?”

“Okay, what do you want help with?”

“Hellllllllllllllllp meeeeeeeeeeeee.”

“Help you what?”

“Do dis.”

“Do what?”

“Help me.”

ohfortheloveofallthatisgoodandholyifyoudon’ttellmewhatyouwant

helpwithi’mgoingtolosemymind.

“Ella.  What do you want me to do?”

“Help me do dis mommy?”

“Okay, I’ll help you.”  (Which is what I should’ve said in the first place.)

“Help me.”  (I’m not kidding about how many times she says this phrase per episode.)

“Okay, I’ll–”

“I DO IT!”

“Okay, fine, you do it.”

“HELLLLLLLLLPPPPP MEEEEEEE!” 

She takes the boots and throws them.

She falls ever-so-dramatically onto the floor.

She screams.

I ignore. 

I hide from her. 

I eat some tootsie rolls.

She finds me. 

She wraps her little arms around my legs.

“Tears, down.  Sad.”

“I know, Ella.  But I will not listen to you when you fuss like that.”

“Okay mommy.  Help me, peas Mommy?”

Do I have to?

What I Would Tell Her

Tags

Ella, mother's love, the fourth child

I heard from a friend today that she is (unexpectedly and unhappily) pregnant with her fourth child. 

And I remember a time, not so long ago, when I found myself in the same position. 

I worried about money, I worried about time.  I worried about being exhausted all the time.  I worried that I didn’t have enough sanity left within me to handle one more.   I worried about my older children.  I worried that I would miscarry.  Again.

And this baby just wasn’t on my schedule people.   

It didn’t take long for me to put the very real concerns and cares aside though, and begin to appreciate the fact that we were, indeed, going to be a family of six.  For the first time in all my pregnancies, I fell deeply in love with that baby, well before she was born.

And oh, those first few days of having Ella…the smell of her…

The tiny fingers that unfurled at my touch…

The baby breath…

The absolute helplessness and the way she needed me and only me.

And as she grew, there were fat little legs

and cheeks

and feet

and hands with those dimples.

There was the first time she said Mama…

and even still, hearing her say it melts me into a puddle of mushy love for that little girl.

And there are those red gossamer curls

and those big blue eyes.

And a baby girl who is becoming a little girl

who won’t wear a bib

or a bow.

But one who likes bonnets

and clickety-clackety shoes.

A little girl who will not let me hold her hand up the stairs

or down the stairs

or in the parking lot

or in the street.

A little girl that sucks on bags of frozen peas (I have no idea…).

And calls herself “baby.”

And a child that has perfected the “camera smile.”

She has spunk, this one does.

She has me wrapped around her little finger.

I can’t imagine my life without her.

Words fall so painfully short of expressing my love for her… 

I want to tell my friend that everything will be fine.  In fact, it will be more than fine. 

I want to tell her how much she will love her new baby.

But I know that she will find out for herself soon enough.

Holding Her Hands

Tags

baby hands, Ella, hands, life is beautiful, miracle of life

August 23, 2007

I look at her.  At her precious baby hands.

Pudgey. 

Ivory. 

Dimpled.

Perfect and beautiful.

Clenched in fists when she’s awake, they unfurl like a flower as she dreams.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around mine, I nearly melt. 

And in that moment, a rush of joy and love and disbelief at the miracle I hold.

Life is beautiful.