Thursday, August 25, 2011

Rainy days

Rainy days...

Transform us into princesses...

(Not that it takes precipitation to precipitate dressing up in this household)

...Fairy/chef/butterfly girl...

...Torso bearing bakers...

...Chapstick modelling divas...

...and master sidewalk-chalk artists.

Guess it takes a 3-year-old to convince you how much fun it can be to draw in the rain...

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


The aliquot sum of 4. The number of semicircular canals in the human ear. The atomic number of lithium. The number of points awarded to J.J. Reddick 457 times during his NCAA career for shots behind the line.

The average number of tantrums we endure on a most-day basis. The number of princess costume changes she can accomplish in 60 seconds. The number of boys in E's class that she has, by report, propositioned for marriage. The number of meals a day she'd make out of blueberries, edamame, and gummy bears if given unlimited access to the latter.

Ceremonial smelling of the cake

Don't be fooled. She isn't offering this de-iced cupcake to you.

Yes, Elle is 3. It hardly seems possible, yet I honestly can hardly remember life without her. I dare not attempt to describe milestones, as I've long lost track of what a "normal" 3 year old should be doing. You can absolutely have a completely adult conversation with her, and she has mastered the very adult concept of contradicting most things you say. Usually with sound or at least pretty convincing logic to back it up. Strong-willed is a nice euphemism, but doesn't fully encapsulate the highly opinionated yet somehow intrinsically endearing personality of this little girl. Oh, right, I'm a big girl Mom.

A big girl who asked only for a pink car for her birthday.

But a big girl who insists her big (quite literally at 4.5 months pregnant) Mommy ride shotgun.

I'm admittedly a little biased, but I've never met a more clever, brilliant, or hilarious 3 year old. She loves to read, and will absolutely call you out if you try to skip a page (or even a word) to expedite the process. She has recently developed a love for Strawberry Shortcake and continues to adore all things princess. Each morning upon wakening she proclaims which princess she will be for the day, although it invariably changes by breakfast. She is amazingly creative, spinning elaborate tales that could be described as pathologic confabulation in an older (and more intoxicated) demographic. She will reenact scenes from books, stories, and her imagination over and over, with very strict regulations about the scripts of her co-actors. I refuse to mention how many times I've been persuaded to act (and dress) the parts of prince, fairy godmother, wicked stepsister, Tinkerbell, and Fancy Nancy's dog. Don't ask.

More than ever, she is profuse with "I-love-you-so-much"es, hugs, kisses, pleases, thank-yous, and May I?s. Interestingly, she seems to have already developed the skill of whipping these affections out when she is toeing the behavior line elsewhere.

Our brief introduction to Three-dom has not been without its challenging moments. There's the utter defiance. The ever-worsening bedtime protests. The outrageously ludicrious emotional instability. Epic meltdowns predicated on the fact that I wasn't wearing my "dirty pajamas" when I woke her up this morning. Don't get excited, Jay... I have no idea what she was referring to but I don't think it involved recent purchases from Priscilla's.

Who says you can't have a pool party in the rain?

But mostly, she is the most delightful little person I have ever met, and brings a kind of joy to our lives that I never knew existed... in the pre-E era.

Here's to my baby who is joyful and clever. Happy day, happy year, happy always and ever.