Inevitable Evolution

My little girl is starting to say her l's.

Of course, when I say "say" what I really mean is that she's beginning to correctly pronounce the letter "l" with the "l-l-l" sound rather than the "w" sound.  She's actually beginning to sound exactly like her cousin Isabella, whose unique way of saying the "l" sound has delighted me since Bella began using it.

While do I of course enjoy hearing Siennalee's speech maturing, in quiet moments I find myself fondly reminiscing of the days of "I Siennawee" and "Oh wook at his wittle wegs!"  Don't get me wrong - I don't wish for my child to spend years in speech therapy (I myself had at least one year devoted to re-learning to say my s's; "My name ith Jethica.") or having fun poked at her by other kids boasting better pronunciation skills (thankfully my daughter is bigger than most of her peers, not that I advocate violence - really just the possibility of it often does the trick).

But moments like these, such as listening to a newly acquired skill being employed and practiced at every turn, moments like these do give a mama cause to smile, step back and wipe surreptitiously at suspiciously moist eyes while savoring yet another of the wonders of this most precious and holy calling: Mommyhood.

Neither Wind nor Rain.

I planted seeds today.  It was sort of a devil-may-care, fate-be-damned kind of act on my part, mostly because a woman in my situation shouldn’t be sowing into ground that might be someone else’s at any moment.  But today I didn’t care. 

You see, I’m tired of waiting.  And I’m tired of loss. 

So during a coldly sunny moment this afternoon, while Siennalee napped sweetly, I ran outside armed with last year’s leftover seeds, my still winter-stiff purple gardening gloves, a trowel and my trusty organic fertilizer.

I’d already scoped out my raised bed when I weeded it this last weekend and knew right where I needed to plant.  I scratched the fertilizer into the dirt, carefully added the seeds (lettuces and peas), buried them, and ignored the spills due to my shivering and the blasts of icy wind that blew down unexpectedly.  By the time I got the remaining snow peas tucked into their little semi-circle, I was feeling pretty good. 
Chilly, but good. 

I was doing it. 

I was making something happen.  

Even though the ground may not even be mine by the time the little sleeping seeds awake and grow and produce, by golly, something’s going to happen.  Standing there, quaking slightly in the cold light, I felt like I was standing up to fate.  For all this endless waiting and loss we’ve endured, something good is going to happen. 

That’s when   something  did  happen.       Standing there,  shivering and gazing contentedly down at the quiet little rows of upturned earth, I suddenly felt whispers of chill drift down on me; I scrutinized the dirt incredulously and then looked up at the sky. 

It was snowing. 

But come winds or rains or weird March snows,    my seeds are planted.

Adventuring to Idaho

Siennalee isn’t quite sure what to make of it all. 

"Are we goin' to Klamath Falls?"  She asks, watching me scurry around the house with armfuls of clothes, blankets, and those miscellaneous better-not-forget-me things which threaten to take your luggage over the magical airline-imposed 50-pound-limit golden rule.

"Nope, we're going to Idaho.  We're going to leave tonight and then get up real early and get on an airplane" here I say the word airplane with the same hallowed, breathy voice I save for princesses and Santa Claus "and we're going to fly over to Idaho to see family."

Being 3, she accepts this and goes on with her day, until the next odd thing I do that she just can't quite figure out.

“Why you putting all those vitamins in there?” she asks, quirking her daddy’s eyebrows at me, “Are we goin’ eat them all now?”

“They are for this weekend – for the trip we’re taking.”  I answer, putting the baggy resolutely out of her reach.

She accepts this and goes back to her shopping cart over by the dining room table.  She’s got her own errands, after all.

Jason and I have spent the past few days explaining to Siennalee about the first part of the trip we’re leaving for today and, most imminent-importantly, about tomorrow – when the airplane will come into play. 

“It’s going to be big,” I tell her, “like a bus."

"Where is it now?"  she asks.

"I'm not sure," I shrug, truthfully, "but it will be ready for us when it's time for our trip."

She spends a few minutes theorizing about where she's pretty sure it is right now.

"It will probably be very loud.”  I casually remark to her after she's settled on where the plane most likely is at this very moment.

She gives me the eyebrow again, “I don’t like loud noises,” she reminds me.

“I know,” I assure her, “but the plane has to make noise just like our car has to make noise.  It’s going to take us waaay up in the air, through the clouds, and maybe we’ll be able to see mountains waaay below us.”

She considers this, and I can see her weighing the plane’s transgression of being loud with its ability to fly us waaay up in the air.  “Okay,” she agrees, with a look that tells me “for now.”

Look out, Alaska Airlines.  We’re headed your way.

Dance Class!

Our little girl has always been active.  We knew right away that we'd want to make sure an activity was always available to her.  When music class ended a year ago, Jason and I kept our eye out for a new something that would be just right for Siennalee.  And now here it is: dance class!  One hour, once a week, it's actually a mix of beginner ballet, tumbling, and some dance.  Our first class was last week and Siennalee was so excited.

She got a tutu for her birthday from Auntie Anne, Uncle Paul and the Cousins and we've been busy practicing some basic moves.  She's got moves, baby.

 

 

One of her favorite moves is the simple jump.  She employs this move a lot.  A.  Lot.

 

 

 My excited little ballerina

 

 Dance class was a little intimidating.  She needed to watch a bit first.  

We'd decided to leave the tutu at home to make sure she had full range of movement until she's learned the moves and is comfortable with them.

 

 Watching time was over and after some mommy-encouragement, she joined right in.

 

 After warm-ups, the class stretched.

 

Then it was time for some fun.  The rolling exercise was right up her alley.

 

Is there anything cuter than kidlets sitting on a balance beam?  I think not.

 

Siennalee was in her element on the mini-trampoline.  

We've really got to get one of those bad boys...

 

 Aww, hi cutie.

 

One of the fundamental things Siennalee will learn is the ballerina curtsy.  

Here the teacher is showing Siennalee how to point her front toe in the first of the three-part curtsy.

 

This is the part where the teacher split the class into two groups: the performers and the audience.  She said that every good performer needs to know how to be a good audience.  

Excellent life lesson, folks.

 

It is hard, though, to sit in the audience.  

Siennalee's mama knows this all too well.

 

Sometimes we just can't help ourselves.  We gotta dance!

 

Finally!  Time to be a performer!  

(Note the little girl standing in the "audience" area - she's feeling the audience-performer-frustration, too.)

 

Siennalee is engrossed in the performance.

(The "audience" girl has moved herself back into the performance, lol.  There's her grandma, fishing her out.)

 

Siennalee followed the routine fairly well.

 

 Class's end.  I think she looks happy.  ;)

Here's to many more happy ballerina moments!

The Big Girl Journey: Milestones

 This weekend a new milestone was achieved in the Kantola household.    

 

Daddy took a break from college football to tackle the project.

 

 The instructions proved that while they were written by someone who probably spoke English, the writer himself had most likely never actually assembled, disassembled, and then reassembled one of these bad boys.

 

 Little helper.

 

Did Daddy want the Phillips or the flat head?

 

 It's hard to tell in the still picture, but here Siennalee is mid-jump - a sure sign that she's excited.

 

 Um guys?  This isn't looking so great...

 

 Ah, that's better.  Even the cow approves.

 

 Everybody needs a helping hand every so often - even a little one.

 

 Joy!

 

The finished project!

(Temporarily minus the adorable window valance.)

Oh!  What a cute little big girl bed.  :)

The Big Girl Journey: Siennalee

We got a new carseat for Siennalee this week.  It's safe to say that Mommie was perhaps even more excited than Daughter. 

What a cute seat!

Siennalee tried it out right away.

This much fun must be shared - her babies lined up for their turn in the new chair.

Pink Giraffe especially liked the seat.

Everybody had to be in on the picture.

She had fun discovering the various features of the new carseat - such as the hidden cup/snack holders.

And the adorable tiny princesses on the seat cover!

 Okay, so maybe Daughter is just as excited as Mommie.  :)

Random Cutenesses

As I type this, Siennalee is at the window. She's found a tiny friend. "Ooo, it's a wittle bug," she exclaims, "hi! Hiii! You could get on my finger. Wittle bug, you could get on my finger... Mommie, could you come see him - what he's doin'? Mommie, could you come see the bug with me?" Presently she's trying to feed him an apple seed. "He weally hungry," she informs me.

During a visit to Paul and Anne's house she found a sugar ant and, fascinated, watched him crawl all up and around her arm. Mouth open in amazement, she'd turn her arm this way and that so as to not miss a single inch of his journey along her soft skin.

We've had a few talks about how not all bugs should be touched. Hopefully these talks sink in on some level before we have a bite or a sting that too early robs my little girl of her childish bug rapture.

***

The other day Siennalee had a very loose poo, accompanied by the usual signal toots. I fetched her, changed her, and sent her off to play again. Before long, there were telltale signs of a second loose poo. Surprised at her having a second poo so soon, I moved to confirm this when Sienna clutched her backside with a rather confused look on her face and looked up at me, evidently sharing my surprise, and said, "What happened down 'dere?!"

***

Siennalee loves playing with her Little People (Fisher-Price Little People, not to be confused with TLC's Little People, Big World). She has a pretty good set of Little People so far, thanks to Christmas and Auntie, who saw very quickly that my nieces weren't interested in their Little People and so bequeathed them to a very grateful Siennalee. My neighbor Nicole has also donated to the Little People cause.

The Little People have very dramatic lives; including, but not limited to, running, hopping, and squealing, and sometimes randomly flying through the air in a school bus that doubles as a rocket (thank you Little Einsteins). They also have very involved getogethers and mingle freely with the Little People animals.

Lately Sienna has only been interested in playing with three blonde Little People girls. I secretly call them the Little People Mean Girls. No other Little People are allowed to play. Only the same three blondies. When all Little People are neatly tucked back into their empty Quaker Oatmeal containers each evening, the blondies are well hidden. And each morning, like clockwork, Siennalee marches over, upends the containers, spills out the Little People, and finds her friends.

A Nice Day for a Walk. And a Lesson or Two.

The weather's been gorgeous today! Siennalee and I took full advantage of it and went down to the park, played for quite a while, and then walked to the mailboxes.

This was the first time we've walked so much without me putting her in a stroller, so it was pretty neat. She's still learning her walking "boundaries" - staying on the sidewalk, not running too far ahead of mommie, etc.

On the way back she started to play a game where she won't come with me (and runs away when I go to grab her hand), so a couple houses away from home, I stopped chasing her and just kept walking.

Slowly, resolutely, I marched on, knowing that at some point she has to understand that she needs to make the choice to follow the wiser person who knows the way, or she could find herself lost, alone and unprotected.

She stood there, rooted to the ground, and stared open-mouthed as I got farther and farther away. Once she started following slowly, I turned around to walk with her, and she turned and ran back the opposite direction. I wheeled around and resumed walking home. She followed.

Heart beating madly, mind calculating how far and fast I'd have to run to snatch her up if danger came racing up the road, I went into the house and peeked my head out the door. She'd followed me and now stood at end of the driveway, looking at the house but not seeing me peeking out the door.

I saw her little mouth mutely form the word "Mah-meee" and ZOOM! I flew out to get her! She wrapped her little arms around my neck and asked, "What you doin' Mommie?"

Consequences are hard to learn; this I've known for years. What is slowly being revealed to me now, is how hard they are to teach.

Heard in Our Little World Today:

"Oh Mommie, your hair is gor-jus," I'd just come into her bedroom this morning with a wet ponytail twisted into a bun, "I want to touch it," I went over to the crib and got her out, she put out a hand to the nape of my neck and withdrew it quickly, "It's really wet."

***

In the car, on our way to ladies' group: "We going go to church? And make new friends? Play with little boys? Play with friends..."

***

"Rock, rock! Rock, rock, Mommie! I crying!" This was actually in church nursery as I was trying to leave for ladies' group and she was to stay there with the other kids; she'd spied the rocking chairs behind us and thought some time in those would do just the trick.

***

"There's a book hiding in there; I want to get it out. It's really tight in there. Get it outta there, Mommie" She was fishing in the over-filled basket of books that lives beneath our coffee table.

***

As I'm typing this new post:

"Don't touch anything. That's a no no. Don't touch that, ookaaaay? Here's your box, and here's your blanket, and here's your bottle, and here's your... it's okay... don't touch anything, that's a no no, 'kaaay? 'Kaaay?" She's settling her babies in her grocery cart and instructing them on proper cart behaviour. I'm wiping tears from my eyes. LOL!

***

Toddler Drama

This morning I requested that Siennalee put her socks on by herself as I finished up getting her day's outfit together. Her over-exaggerated grunts evidenced that she was indeed working on this task, and as I turned to check her progress and perhaps assist, she informed me breathlessly that the socks were "really really really tight!"

Amazing, adorable, amusing, enchanting, heartwarming, heartbreaking, thrilling, and deeply deeply satisfying - these little steps that our babies take toward becoming little persons.