“Look at my tattoos!” and other conversation starters

“Look at my tattoos!” and other conversation starters

Stella isn’t very good at just sitting on the potty. While she’s waiting, she figures she might as well be emptying all the bathroom cupboard drawers and strewing their contents across the floor. One time, she brought a notepad and a pen to the bathroom with her. Daddy thought she was just going to draw on the paper. Silly him. A few moments later, he went to check on her. She had scribbled all over her arms, tummy, and legs. “Look at my tattoos!” How does she know what tattoos are? “Oh, what did you draw?” I asked. “Alien spacemen,” she said. How does she know what alien spacemen are?

Another time, five minutes after we needed to be out the door to make it to school on time, Stella was not just sitting on the potty. I was somewhere else, doing something that was probably important, when I noticed the silence. I poked my head in the bathroom and Stella was on the potty with semi-permanent lip liner scrawled across her eyebrows and forehead. “I have makeup!” she said. I should have seen this coming. That makeup had been in the bottom cupboard drawer for nine months. How did it take that long for her to realize it was there? Well, now it’s in the trash.

One day while we were driving in the car, Stella told me she was going to work.

Me: “What kind of work do you do?”

S: “Business work.”

Me: “What kind of business?”

Pause.

S: “Monkey business.”

How does she know what monkey business is?

 

 

 

Easter Talk

Easter Talk

We were talking to Stella about Easter. Specifically, what happened during the last week of the Savior’s life. In honor of Palm Sunday, we made a really pathetic looking “palm branch” by tracing her hands on green paper, cutting them out, and taping them to a stick she found outside. She was proud of it anyway and walked around the house cradling it and saying she was going to show Daddy when he came home. Then we watched a video of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, and she rode on her own donkey, I mean dad.

Later, she recounted the story as follows:

S: Jesus rode on a donkey. Into “Jerusadem.”

Me: What did the people shout?

S: Lasagna!

Me: I think you mean, “Hosanna!”

S: Yeah!

Me: They said, “Hosanna, to the Son of David!”

S: “David! Stop it this instant!”

Me: No, not that David.

On Tuesday, we talked about how Jesus cleansed the temple.

S: Jesus was mad.

Me: Why?

S: Because the temple was dirty.

Me: Why?

S: Because of the sheep.

Me: What about the sheep?

S: The sheep pooped in the temple.

You can always count on poop to be memorable.

On Thursday, we made unleavened bread. It tasted gross.

Stella loves that song “Gethsemane.” It was probably one of the last songs she was really interested in before she started boycotting singing. Now she refuses to sing on camera or when we’re talking to anyone on the phone. But before she entered this downward spiral, I overheard her singing parts of “Gethsemane” to her stuffed pig. But instead of saying, “Jesus climbed the hill, to the garden still, his steps were heavy and slow….” she said:

“Jesus climbed the hill… [dramatic pause]

to steal cookies!”

 

 

A medley by Stella

A medley by Stella

Stella likes to sing/shout/blather herself to sleep at night. Sometimes it sounds like a mix of all the songs she’s been singing throughout the day:

Jesus came to…5 little speckled frogs, sitting on a speckled log, eating the most delicious…spider that wriggled and tickled and jiggled inside her…family here on earth, they are so…dumb, dumb, dumb, they chase anything that glitters, beginners, oh! And here they come, come, come, to…earth with power to choose, good choices bless me and my…foolish man built his house upon the sand, and the rains came tumbling down…to the edge of the water, long as I can remember, never really knowing why…at times I am tempted to…be shiny, like the treasure of a sunken pirate wreck, scrub the deck and…the Lord has shown me how I can…cross that line, will I cross that line? See the light where the sky meets the sea, it calls me and…what can I say except we’re dead soon?  Your granny LIED! The cold never bothered me anyway!

 

 

The perks of being a Sophie

The perks of being a Sophie

My hair fixes itself. Or, it used to. That is, it stood up on its own like Iggy Peck’s magnificent coiffure.

2017-02-23 Sophie 5 months [7]Now that my head is growing into my hair, I require a bit more maintenance.

2017-03-11 Sophie 5 months [11].jpgThese days I can’t go anywhere without a whale spout on my head. Usually it’s centered, slightly skewed to the side if Stella has yanked it out of place. I can’t complain. It beats being bald. Except, I think I would have liked wearing color coordinated headbands with enormous flowers and bows and feathers, but oh well. Oh, by the way, did you know, I’ve already had multiple “haircuts.” It started at 3 months. Apparently I had quite the mullet. One day Mom just cut it off and nobody has seen it since. Except she doesn’t know how to cut hair, and even after watching multiple Youtube tutorials, it still looks like she stuck a bowl on my head and went to town. Soooo…yeah. We won’t talk about it anymore.

My hands are dainty. I can fit my whole fist in my mouth. I’ll enjoy it while I can. Note: My hands are also swift. I’ll grab any nose that wanders within inches from my face.

2017-03-11 Sohpie 5 months [12]I have a secret superhero identity. Sophie is just a pen name. My real name is ELASTIBABY! My feet can scratch my nose and if I ever get bored, I can chew on my toes indefinitely.

I am easily amused. I could spend all day turning around in circles on my stomach and backing myself into corners. Or rolling myself into blankie burritos. My favorite game is to lie still when Mom lays me down on a blanket, and then once she walks away to do damage control on whatever Stella has broken in half in some other room, I wiggle away as fast as I can in any direction. Then when Mom comes back to check on me, it looks like I’ve crawled all the way across a whole room. When I’m not free to move as I please on the floor, I’ll settle for sticking out my tongue and wrinkling my nose while blowing air out of my nostrils, or gnawing on my favorite teething toy: Mom’s face. I tried Dad’s. It’s just not the same.

2017-03-11 Sophie 5 months [9]I can eat as much as I want. I’ve discovered purees in this order: sweet potato, squash, apple, avocado, peach, mango, banana, blueberry, pea, pear, plum. So delish. Peas + thyme. Squash + chili powder. Sweet potato + cumin. Blueberry + lemon. Pear + corriander/ginger. I do have to eat that multigrain mush that smells like old paper because Mom doesn’t believe in rice cereal, but I only have to eat it once a day, and if it means I get to eat pears after, then so be it. And, an added bonus? I can eat all day and still look like a small potato next to Stella.

2017-03-11 Stella Sophie [3]2017-03-11 Stella Sophie [4]Yes, I wear all Stella’s old clothes and play with toys she doesn’t want anymore (which don’t really exist because as soon as I pick something up she swoops in to grab it, feigning interest only because I want it), and share the bathwater she’s probably peed in (or so she says), but life is good. Who wouldn’t want to be me?

Bible Stories that my toddler tells to me

Bible Stories that my toddler tells to me

Today Stella was busy coloring on the table like I told her not to, when she paused and looked up and said, “Daniel in the lions’ den.”

Me: “Oh, who told you that?”

S: “Jackson.”

Me: “No, they must have told you that story in nursery yesterday?”

S: “Yeah.”

I showed her the picture of Daniel in the lions’ den from our book of Bible stories and again corrected the understandable misnomer (she had recently talked to her cousins Daniel and Jackson on FaceTime), pointing out that this wasn’t her cousin, but an old timey prophet. Later, she wanted to recap the highlights of the story:

S: “Daniel ate the lions. For breakfast.”

Me: “No, everyone thought the lions would eat Daniel but God saved him.”

S: “Lions were hungry.”

Me: Yes, they were hungry, but they didn’t eat Daniel because he prayed to Heavenly Father. Daniel was a good guy.”

S: “And Jackson.”

Me: “Yes, Jackson is a good guy too. So what happened to Daniel in the lions’ den?”

S: “Jackson ate him. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen!”

Hmmm….

Speaking of (mostly) old timey prophets:

Stella & prophets 1

Stella & prophets 2

Animal print pants out of control

Animal print pants out of control

These animal print pants, dubbed “kitty jammies” by Stella, have been passed on to Sophie. These pjs are the real reason Stella puts up with Sophie at the moment. More than once, I’ve caught her softly petting the kitty feet of these pajamas while Sophie is wearing them, and trying to put them on herself every chance she gets. I guess we’ll just have to make sure all Sophie’s outfits have cute animal feet to distract Stella from stomping on her.

This week, I discovered that I CAN take pictures in our cave, I mean apartment. There’s just enough light from a window in our bedroom. For the next few years, all the family photos will probably be taken on our bed. Every time I feel the urge to take photos of these monkeys, I almost always talk myself out of it. Stella would rather eat broccoli and wear pants than sit still and get her hair done and follow any sort of verbal instructions whatsoever. Inevitably, these photo sessions end with me resorting to bribery wherein I hear myself telling her she can watch Elsa sing “Let it Go” for 15 more minutes before I’ve thought it through. WHY do I do that? It results in kicking and screaming when it’s time to turn off the phone. EVERY TIME. This is the only reason I know that song word for word. My New Year’s resolution: turn Stella’s Elsa obsession into a Moana obsession. I like Moana because: the movie’s plot actually makes sense; Moana looks like she eats food instead of subsisting on a diet of melted snowflakes; her sidekicks are a pig and chicken instead of a suicidal snowman (even though Olaf’s hopeless optimism is my favorite part of Frozen)… We made a good start on Project Oust Elsa this weekend when Stella watched Moana one and a half times yesterday. She doesn’t ever watch a whole movie two times in a row, except this time, I wanted to watch it so I caved when Stella said, “Watch it again?!” the second the end credits started rolling. And this morning, when I opened her bedroom door, her first words: “Watch Moana?” Instead of “Good morning mommy, I thoroughly enjoyed 10 hours of sleep last night, thank you very much!”

But then, recidivism. Stella sang “Let it Go” rather loudly during Sacrament meeting. I would be fine if she never did that again. But if she sang “How Far I’ll Go” instead-THAT would be impressive. Ugh. Maybe Elsa will always be #1. Gah!

As for Sophie, there’s no reasoning with her.

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All I want for Christmas is for my 2-year-old to sit still for more than two seconds…

All I want for Christmas is for my 2-year-old to sit still for more than two seconds…

Sophie was blessed at church on Christmas. She made it much easier for us than Stella did on her blessing day in Rhode Island. She slept through the entire Sacrament meeting. She kept her headband on. And she did not feel the need to unwrap all the fake presents under the Christmas trees in the hall, like SOMEONE else we know…

Three month old Sophie looks exactly like three month old Stella, but seems to be WAY more mellow. Sophie does not do nocturnal gymnastics when she should be sleeping. When you put her to bed, she wakes up in the same place in the morning, instead of upside down after a night of turning around and around and around in circles. Sophie, unlike Stella, seems to be able to sit still for more than two seconds. Sophie, unlike Stella, loves to snuggle; her favorite place to be is squished in someone’s arms. Usually it doesn’t matter who is holding her. In that way, she’s like her sister. Sophie is friendly and pleasant and loves smiling and having one-on-one conversations but only if she has your complete attention. We wondered if she might be the calming force to complement the crazy of Stella. So far, Stella is still crazy and thinks she has better things to do than hang out with Sophie. She still thinks Sophie’s head is a xylophone and that her tummy is a trampoline. Oh well. One day, they’ll be best friends forever. At least that’s what everyone says…

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Sophie would like to interrupt this broadcast to announce that she laughed for the first time on New Year’s Eve and discovered how to roll over and not hate tummy time on New Year’s Day.