Friday, February 9, 2018

2.5







































































To my Estella Plum...at about 2 and a half years old.

You have the most narrow shoulders...every shirt or dress slips off of them.

On our layover on our way to Hawaii, we went outside for a bit, and you tripped over a tree root and landed right on the bridge of your nose. It looked so bad, I was worried you may have broken it, but you only cried for a short time and didn't complain and went right on playing and chasing your sister around.

Also, while in Hawaii, you almost drowned. We had just had lunch poolside and your sister wanted to swim and it was one of the pools where you walk in and it gradually gets deeper. You refused to wear your swimmers and I just asked that you stay close to me in the shallow part. Well, you didn't listen and just kept walking until your head was underwater. I was yelling, "Stop! Come back please, Stella!" As soon as I realized you had walked far enough that your head was underwater, I don't know what I was thinking, but I thought you might just be able to turn around and walk the other way back to the shallow end...so, I hesitated for a moment and then I ran into the water (with my clothes on) and lifted you out. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. Although I had my eyes on you the whole time, it only takes a moment...Your sister was happily paddling in the water right next to you when I lifted you out. It's burned in my memory forever, Estella, and I'm so sorry I just didn't get in the water with you or say "no" to you wanting to swim with your sister.

You love to collect rocks and sticks. We now have a rule that they cannot come inside the house.

When you want something (ahem, mama's milk), you try and bargain with me when I tell you "no". "Just a little. Just a tiny?" as you close one eye and show the tiny amount you want with two fingers.

You hear everything and wish to know what makes every little noise. "What was that?"

You notice your shadow and say, "Look mama! My shadow!"

You call a spoon, "a foon."

Whenever I tell you no to something you want, you say, "Hey, I got a good idea," but you never elaborate on what that idea may be.

When I say yes to one of your requests, you yell, "Yipee!" and get really excited.

When you eat or drink a lot of something, when you finish, you fake burp and say, "Awk!" super loudly and do your fake little laugh.

When you poop, you timidly walk up to me and say, “Mama, I went poo poo.” And I’ll usually reply, “OK. Well, let’s go change you. And then you respond getting a little louder and say, “It’s a BIG Poo Poo!” 

You are left-handed. 

You saw your very first movie at Music Box Theater...none other than “The Sound of Music” or as you refer to it as “A Few of My Favorite Fings”. You were dancing and singing along, but you fell asleep halfway through on my boob.

You are F-U-N-N-Y. And your laugh is just the best.

You bit down on your little ring the other day and bent it so badly that your finger turned purple because it was cutting off the circulation. You were screaming bloody murder as I bit down on your ring (with your finger in it) to bend it the other way to get it off. We'll need to get that ring repaired as it was a special gift from your aunt for your golden birthday. That experience took a couple years off my life. I honestly thought you might lose that finger if I didn't get that little ring off quickly enough.

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