Compliment of a Lifetime

Okay, I realize that some friends and family who read this blog will once again think I'm a crazy mom who just can't stop raving about her child. But honestly, this is feedback from a wholly unbiased source, and I just have to relay this story.

It was Wednesday of this week when I had a complete stranger say one of the nicest things to me about Makela. She had convinced me to go to In-n-Out for lunch, since we were in the middle of running a bunch of errands. It was easier to eat out than go home and then go out again to finish them.

So there we were, eating our lunch, and having a great time while doing so. Makela was in a particularly sparkly mood, which of course always helps. But I was shocked when an older, white-haired gentleman, neatly dressed in khakis and a button-down, stopped next to me, gently put his hand on my shoulder, and said the following:

"Not only is she a lovely child, but she is the most well-behaved, animated, and beautiful little girl you'll ever see in this world. You are a very lucky woman."

I was stunned. And ready to burst with pride. Sure, it's great when people tell you your kid is cute or adorable (FOUR other people told me similar things during this same visit to In-n-Out). But this man's compliment touched on Makela's behavior and personality, which most people don't comment on -- either because they don't take notice or just focus on her superficial qualities. And I would rather have a sweet, funny and well-mannered child, rather than one with just looks. But boy, it sure doesn't hurt to have it all....

Question of the Day

Today's "Question of the Day" is brought to you by the letter G and the number 4. So there we were, in Whole Foods, rounding the corner near the seafood department and produce, and what does Makela ask me?

"Mommy, do giraffes have tummies?"

Out of nowhere. After I recovered from my initial thought of "where on earth is THIS coming from?", I told her that yes, they do.

Then Makela said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, honey. I'm sure. Are you?"

When she replied, "no," I reassured her by saying, "Don't worry, Makela. Giraffes do have tummies."

"Okay," she answered, and that was that.

The Purple Inverticle

Okay. Makela has been talking about this for several weeks now, so it's time to put it in writing. I just *have* do a scrapbook layout on this subject! Here's the story, in her own words:

"Mommy, when I grow up, I'm going to drive a purple inverticle. [Inverticle means convertible, in Makela-ese.] It's going to have TEN seats, and be purple on the inside AND the outside. Everything in my purple car is going to be purple! Purple seats, purple lights, even the windows will be light purple."

According to Makela, it's already at the "car store," waiting for her to grow up. And "it's also upside down right now, because they are putting on the tires."

The detail with which she embellishes the story increases every time. She is so funny about this purple car. When we actually see a purple car on the road (it's more common that you think), she just about loses her mind. We even saw a bright purple VW bug one day, one of the newer models. It had a license plate that said "I LOVE PURPL" ("LOVE" was actually a heart symbol). It just cracks me up how these seemingly little things just make Makela's day.

Sunshine After the Rain

Do you ever have one of those days? Well, it's been one of those weeks. It's just been a disaster, mostly in just little, annoying ways. Or maybe it's just that I'm the one feeling like a walking disaster area.

Example 1. Somehow I managed to knock the Brita pitcher on to our stone tiled floor, thinking it had survived unscathed, even though it all poured out, leaving a small lake forming in the kitchen. However, I later discovered the pitcher leaking from a crack down the side -- and filling all three fridge shelves with another small -- albeit shallower -- lake, which then ended up cascading on to the aforementioned kitchen floor. At least it was water. Which leads me to....

Example 2. Upon opening the refrigerator door one morning, the small bottle of A-1 Sauce literally jumped out of the door shelf, shattering into itty bitty pieces on the now very much despised stone floor. Luckily, no one was hurt. Most of the A-1 landed on the tiles, but my right foot and lower leg were covered in the stuff. And while A-1 may work really well for steak, I was pretty sure I didn't want to go around smelling like a barbecue for the rest of the day. Once I gathered up all the glass shards, soaked up the excess A-1 with paper towels, and did a lightning quick mop job with the Swiffer, I washed my right foot and leg in the bathtub. On with my day, right?

Mostly. Later, while playing with my friend Kathleen and her boys, I suddenly realized I could still smell A-1. And then I saw it. Several spatters of brown, sticky sauce on the back of my LEFT leg. You'd think I would have noticed.

Example 3. Makela has decided that 8-9 hours of sleep is quite enough, thank you very much. At least on two or three nights each week. RRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIGHT. So she has been a total crank most days, and it doesn't help that Joe is now in his fourth month of two back-to-back trials, so I've been with Makela nearly 24-7 during that time. So Mommy's patience is worn thin.

Thank goodness for friends who have helped us escape each other, like my new DG friend Patricia, who suggested we go on a picnic yesterday at La Jolla Cove. It was a gorgeous day, and Makela is enchanted with "Miss Patricia" and her elderly dog, Chancey. Makela and Chancey played on the grass, then I took Makela down on the beach, where she frolicked in the water for about 30 minutes. After that, Patricia suggested that we go get ice cream, which of course absolutely made Makela's day. Who can resist chocolate ice cream with crushed Oreos mixed in?

And then there's Gram. She has come to my rescue many times recently. Even if it's just allowing me to get to a Weight Watchers meeting or sit at Starbucks for an hour, it's been sweet relief. Thank you, Mom Reid. You are the BEST.

So all of this brings me to today. Makela woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and it just got worse and worse through the day. She really is well behaved most of the time, especially when we're out and about, but there was no pleasing her today. Even at music class, which normally keeps her enthralled, she was grabbing my egg shakers and dancing scarves while saying "Mine!" Suddenly she was two years old again.

At around 2:45, Makela finally fell asleep, after crying and screaming bloody murder about how she wanted to be done with her quiet time. For at least 10 minutes. I'm afraid the neighbors must have thought I was torturing her. I had to wake her up an hour later, since I had to run an errand and didn't want her to sleep too late in the day.

She woke up a different child. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy she was to get motivated (half-asleep as she still was). We ran our errand, I realized I'd forgotten her Little Einsteins lunch box with snacks in it -- and her sports bottle filled with water, but only after I'd already suggested we go to a park to play. She asked for Dinosaur Park, so I thought we'd give it a shot, and we had a terrific time. We played with her soccer ball, and we met a new dog friend -- a beautiful boxer named Bella.

Since I was just not looking forward to cooking at home and realized that I hadn't eaten much today and was therefore STARVING, I suggested that we go out to eat to celebrate the turn-around in her mood and to have a special "Mommy and Makela" dinner. We went to Red Robin, of course. Makela adores their Cheesy Mac-n-Cheesy. And she actually asked for apple slices to go with it, all on her own! Yippee -- no talking her down from ordering french fries!

And Makela was delightful all during dinner. I had to ask her to lower her voice a few times, but she was just happy singing and making silly faces at me.

But then, to make all of the above chaos completely, 100% worth it, Makela uttered the sweetest, most wonderful thing she's said in a while. She looked at me, her eyes got really big, and this is what she said:

"Mommy, when I grow up, I'm going to have a purple house. And it's going to be right next to your house. And we can have white windows, and you can open yours and you can talk to me every day."

It's moments like these when I am absolutely stunned by how lucky I am. It's been a rough week or so. But if this is what comes out of it, I'd do it all over again.

Music & Lyrics

Lately, Makela has been singing EVERYTHING. Instead of just talking, she'll put everyday conversation into "songs" that she makes up. Or sometimes she puts new words to music she already knows.

For example, a recent favorite has been a song called "We're going to the Y." It's to the tune of "Farmer in the Dell." And she also has a made-up song about visits to the beach:

We're going to the beach.
We're going to the beach.
We're going to the beach, beach, beach, beach, BEEEEEEEEEACH!

Here's another favorite song that she keeps repeating, with the same music and (mostly) the same lyrics -- we call it the "Curious George Song":

It's Curious George's birthday
He was born this day
He's a good little monkey,
But always very curious....

And of course, my personal favorite, which Makela made up while on the kiddie swings at Nobel Park a few weeks ago:

Bumble cookies flying in the sky
Bumble cookies wearing t-shirts and hats....

Not sure about her future in the music industry, but the kid's got personality, you've got to give her that!

Leaps & Bounds

Sometimes it feels like Makela makes a giant leap forward in one way or another, and there I am to witness it, right as it happens. And sometimes it just happens without my even noticing right away, probably because I'm with her all the time and can't see the progress on a daily basis. It's funny how it seems as if I wake up one day, and suddenly there's a big change in my little girl.

Today was one of the former occasions. We were at Seaworld with our playgroup today, and just before we left, I took her to use the bathroom. Without warning, Makela announced the following: "Mommy, I'm going to do it all by myself." I thought that meant that she wouldn't need me to help her pull her pants down and/or help her up on the seat (both of which we've been working on). But NO -- she meant the WHOLE thing. Before I'd even finished saying, "Okay," Makela was closing the stall door on me, and then it was latched. She was SOOOO proud of herself, giving me a play-by-play commentary that the whole ladies room could hear. But she sure did it -- she went, wiped herself, and didn't even freak out because of the "augo-mag-ick" flusher. "I did it!" she proclaimed, beaming from ear to ear as she exited the stall.

Of course, Daddy pointed out what's next -- that Makela will want to go into the whole restroom by herself. But THAT'S not gonna happen anytime soon. It's one thing to be independent, another to be reckless.

I also have to mention another one of Makela's recent big changes. This is one of the gradual ones. Relatively speaking, that is.

Over the last month or so, I've found myself putting more and more of Makela's clothes into the current "outgrown" box. I knew she'd been growing, but didn't think much of it until I realized that some of the fairly new things in size 3/3T were suddenly not fitting her anymore! She just started wearing size 3's around her birthday -- how could this be happening?

Well, I'll tell you how. Makela was more than happy to oblige when I suggested we measure how tall she is at Target last week. They have these little height charts on the sides of some of the clothing racks. So she stepped in front of one, and I was positively SHOCKED to see that she was standing at 39.75 inches! She had a shoe with a small heel -- maybe 1/4" high. So I rounded down to 39.5 inches, which is STILL a whole 1.5" taller than she was at her three-year check-up at the very end of January!

Several people have commented on how tall she looks all of a sudden, especially some friends we hadn't seen in a while. But honestly -- 1.5" inches in about 2.5 months?!? Makela gives new meaning to the phrase "growing like a weed!"

The Chef & The Cook

It's been a while since I last posted. I really need to make this a daily habit. Especially after reading this really cool book by one of my favorite scrapbook designers, Cathy Zielske, called "Clean & Simple Scrapbooking". She is amazing, and now I'm totally inspired to write more and refine my scrapbooking style. Not only that, but she has the BEST ideas on how to organize scrapbooks and the layouts within them, particularly when scrapping out of chronological order. I haven't quite been able to break out of my chronological chains yet, but I may just get there now. Geez -- I think I need to go thank this cool scrapbooking guru on her blog. Take a look if you like. Cathy's blog is at www.cathyzielske.typepad.com.

Anyway, I'm tired and thinking very randomly tonight. My thoughts are scattered. But I know I need to write down a few of the recent things about Makela. Otherwise I will completely forget them, and I can't let that happen!

The first one happened last Thursday evening, as Makela and Joe were busy cooking in her play kitchen, after I'd left for my Weight Watchers meeting. Apparently, Joe asked Makela if she wanted to be a chef when we she grows up. So here is what she said in reply: "Yes, I want to be a chef when I grow up. But now I'm little, so they call me a cook."

Another funny thing happened a couple of weeks ago, when Joe was talking to Makela about using a telescope. I didn't catch the whole conversation, but I heard him telling her about using this versus just "the naked eye." Without pausing for even a second, Makela looked at her Daddy and asked, "Which one is the naked eye?" Of course Joe had to explain that this was just another one of those weird expressions that grownups use....