More Stellaisms and Some Geegisms

While driving home from the Children's Museum singing a song with me:

"If you're happy and you know it crap your hands!"

Getting ready to leave the house, she finds her binoculars:

"My knockers! Look, it's my knockers. I take them with."

When asked what her sister's full name is:

"Giannarhea!"

Meanwhile...

Gianna is fascniated with the oven--hot or cold. You cannot leave her unattended while using it or she opens it and wants to climb in. However, she does acknowledge the extreme heat emmanating from within by standing back for a moment and blowing at it vigorously--the way one would at a bowl of hot soup.

We Getting Political

She catches a view of the debates on the television:

"Is that Arock Obana, Mom?"

"No, that's John McCain. But Barack Obama is there. He'll be on in a second."

"There's Arock Obana. And that's Jonmccain, Mom?"

"Yep. They're both running for President."

"Huh? WOW!"

Red Riding Hood Jacket GIVEAWAY !!!!!!!

Red Riding Hood Jacket GIVEAWAY !!!!!!!

Status: Alive

I'm writing at my kitchen table.

We just had rice and beans for lunch. This is a favorite of both girls. Believe it.

They are now painting with water colors.

My house is a pit, though I did manage to empty and load the dishwasher ("the DW"). The girls are all smiles with their paints and full tums. (Gianna just looked at me a whispered, "Wow. Wow," with paint on her face.) We have not left the house. We probably won't. The sun is too bright outside for my current ability to cope.

Last week we had many family members over to watch and take the girls out, clean my kitchen, do my laundry and clean the bathrooms. I felt like a pathetic little puddle of goo. Self-loathing goo. But I also know this is right on track with how I feel at this point in a pregnancy. I know that I have health and happiness to look forward to. And a new appreciation for the ease of childcare and housework when I feel fine.

Nothing like a little adversity to make you appreciate your mundane life.

In ten days we get to go to Pinetop and I will be able to smell the moist earth. I crave the smell of moist earth. I'm a peach to be around these days. Come for a visit?

Get Up, Get Dressed, Feel Better (sometimes)

This is my prescription for success. I always feel better after a little face washing, teeth brushing and moisturizing. Sometimes, however, I don't feel better for long. However, we recently got cable and I can honestly say that it will help with my first trimester woes. As pathetic as that sounds it's true.

It's true that Stella will watch more TV in the next few weeks than she has all year long. But it's also true that once all this nauseating illness passes she will watch less. It's also true that she will have to go through detox. That's not pretty, folks. It's also true that I have wished for Gianna's interest in TV to ignite. Pathetic, but true.

Get up, get dressed, feel better?

The end product of pregnancy makes it all worthwhile. It's also the end product that tricks me into wanting another before I ever step foot out of the hospital. Maybe the pain killers help, too.

Two Indicies of Elevated Hormonal Levels

Today my girls are playing together in the living room. Genuinely playing. There is some Paul Simon of the "Graceland" era playing. They have a house. They have all their toys lined up. Stella looks at me and says, "I like playing with my sister."

Suddenly there's a shift in the music and they both move to an area of the room where they can dance. Stella does some of her signature moves and Gianna goes to her catch-all airplane arms.

This makes my sinuses tingle with joy.

Last night I watched a program called "The Biggest Loser." I can see how people get addicted to these shows. When Colleen wins the immunity challenge and attributes it to her deep love and concern for her father and his health--I get misty.

These Ones Make Her Laugh

Do something about those eyebrows!

Can't Get Enough of the Stellaisms

At breakfast:

"What's this bread call, Mom? Ingish Munchen?"
"English Muffin."
"O, Ingish Munchen."

At the park to some new friends:

"Come over here, frens. My mom is Weesha."

At my bedside at 4:30am:

"Water," while shaking her obviously full sippy cup.
"You have water, Stella."
"It morning time?"
"No, it's still dark."
"Water?"

While trying to go number one on the toilet, to no avail:

"It not working, Mom."
"You're not working, Stella. Just relax."
*slight dribble*
"It working!"

Getting picked up from a morning at preschool:

In a cheery voice, "I cried at school today."
"Really? Did you have fun?"
"Yep. I cry. I miss you, Mom."

After Gianna has gone to bed for the night:

"Where's Gigi, Mom?"
"She's in bed sleeping."
"Gigi! Gigi! I want my Gigi, Mom."

A Different Light

Outside around eight-thirty I noticed the light is changing. It's becoming winter light--longer shadows, bluish tint, crisp (if light can be crisp). It's less hot now. I do not call it cool yet, merely less hot. But this translates if you've lived here.

The sidewalks radiate less heat when you go to get your mail. The smells outside are less intense because things aren't getting pounded by the sun's electromagnetic radiation. Things aren't burnt and pathetic. Things are dormant and ugly, but there's potntial. There's little green nubs, there's bugs and birds out foraging in the middle of the day.

This is hope to someone who's been through the Phoenix summer.

Tonight wind whipped up dust and trash and blew it around the neighborhood. We sat outside and watched. It was awesome. It was the greatest balm to my summer-weary soul to sit out front and see stormy, ominous skies and be out of the house barefoot at six-thirty. That simply doesn't happen here.

We are entering our blessed time of year. We're entering The Reason Any Suckers Stay in Phoenix. We all get so preoccupied and giddily-confused by the awesome weather that we trick ourselves into believing that summer is only three months long.

We know better. But we're like the kids who didn't get asked to prom: we didn't want to go anyway. We're shoveling sunshine all winter and we spend all summer telling ourselves it's worth it.

Either way, the light is different here now. It makes life tolerable. It makes afternoon chores and mundane errands and trips to the grovery store for one thing manageable. And if you're nodding your head right now, congratulations, you've survived.

I'm Not a Quitter

I read somewhere that the average blogger lasts six months.

Well, I am not your average blogger because I have lasted longer than that and I don't plan on quitting. Mostly because this is the main place that I catalogue the stuff that happens at home. The milestones, the words, the steps, the fights and all the stuff in between.

My mom kept a nice baby book for me. As much as I've tried to do that I have failed. I don't even have one for Gianna. All I have is this blog.

We are winding down from the summer weather that is strongly disliked. I always feel like, "If I can just make it to Septmeber..." And here I am. Way to go! The evenings are getting to be pleasant and the mornings are a little crisp. A little.

I read a few that are talking about the end of their nice weather. I'm always a bit elated right now because I could go on and on about how nice our weather is becoming. And with it the quality of life.

I'm always trying to figure out how to thrive in the summer when two small children are involved. How do we burn energy and have fun without too much travel and driving around? When I was a kid here in Arizona, I ususally have ready access to a pool. So far we have generous friends who allow us to use their pools and that is nice, but I still want one in my own backyard.

Someday? Perhaps. Right now Jamie is in school and we won't be getting a pool anytime soon. Right now it's a big enough deal to make good choices at the grocery store and proper use of any smidgen of free time that I may have.

All that said, we'll be having another small child in May--Lord willing. In the midst of lean times we've been blessed with another Hanson. A post-cancer Hanson. And we're excited.

Stella-isms

Her alphabet song:

"A B C D E F G Q R S enenenen P. Q R S C U V H I J K enenenen P."

When in a bad mood while passing the peace at church:

"I don't want peace."

Every day around 10 am in the midst of some activity:

"What are we doing tomorrow?"

Getting ready to jump into the pool:

"One, Two, Three, Nine!"

When Gigi is crying/screaming in the car:

"Gigi! You can't do that. Stop it, Gigi!"

After playing with some new friends at the playground:

"Mom, I like my frens."

At night before bed when I ask her for a kiss from my baby:

"I not a baby. I a kid!"

And while she lays in bed falling asleep she sings many versions of all the above conversations and expressions to herself. Punctuated with the refrain, "I can't do that. No, it's mine."

An Anniversary

Five years ago today Jamie proposed marriage to me at a little prayer garden in Phoenix. I was so astonished that it took me thirty minutes to answer. He knelt down on the gravel on one knee and remained that way, patiently waiting, for a bit. Then he got up and sat beside me on the bench.

It wasn't your typical engagement scene. I was gushing and screaming, "Yes!" Not that I didn't want to marry him.

It was that we had only been "dating" for less than two months. It was that three months before I was all, "Whatever, James Nicholas Hanson." It was that I first changed my mind about him at his dad's funeral. How does one explain it?

All I know is that I knew that saying yes was the right thing to do. But since it all happened so quickly I was still trying to figure it all out. I wanted to let it all settle so I could enjoy the process.

Jamie was a gentlemen and told me that I didn't have to give him an answer right then. I could wait and think about it. However, how do you bring it up again later. "Yeah, about that marriage proposal..."

There was a little rock with this inscription on it sitting if front of us, "Say yes to the will of God and you will never be the same."

Of course, you know my answer.

The Cicadas Are Sounding

Around these parts it's not crickets one hears so much as cicadas this time of year. According to Wikipedia, "Cicadas like heat and do their most spirited singing during the hotter hours of a summer day." If you were visiting us this summer you would hear them singing. With much spirit.

We're at that point in the summer where locals languish in the shade talking about how great it will be here in two months. We like to take note of the fact (fact, folks. FACT!) that no other place in the country has six months of good weather to look forward to after coming down off a hot summer bender. This is how we console ourselves on the tenth of August where there are still twenty-one days left until September. A month that we still anticipate using the air conditioner. A month we know that the nights get nice but don't really have the bite to produce sweaters until into October. But we've come this far, darn it, and we're going to survive.

I remember this time last year. I had a wee babe. I was up at night watching videos from Netflix and reading. I was tired and battling our newly discovered pests the cockroaches. I was one month post partum and lactating like a banshee. I was driving around town with a twenty month old and a newborn wondering how we would survive the heat. But we survived. We thrived even.

And we're thriving again. Our two little desert children like being outside. The elder two of the Hanson Four do not enjoy it quite so much. We wait until after dinner when shade has descended upon half our yard to venture out. We want some churning legs and flailing arms to expend energy before bedtime. We want some sweaty heads to justify the water in the bathtub. We want some lemonade and crackers on a blanket out back.

We want a pool.

So last night when some friends called and invited us to a last-minute swim at their mother/grandma/mother-in-law's house we did something we rarely do: we said, "Yesohmygoshwewillbetherewithbellson!" We were about to start dinner and we put away the fixins. We gathered our suits and got into our hot car at 4:00. We enjoyed a very summer meal which reminded us parents of our childhoods and laid the foundation of childhood memories for our collective four children. We ate fast because there were four children under four chomping at the bit to swim and their loudness could not we ignored.

So when it came to be 6:45 and we were still in the pool we all wondered at the loveliness of the passage of time in the desert when a body of water is involved. Three quarters of the adults represented had desert childhoods to recollect and counted up the hours of time we spent in the pool. We indulged in some classic pool games: catch the ball while jumping in the water, underwater handstands; while we just reminisced of others: marco polo, screaming underwater and trying to decipher the words, mermaid, diving competitions.

It is a beautiful thing to be young and fecund and descend upon a sleepy little community pool with all your fecundity and forget about how hot and oppressing the hotness is.

Even the heat is beautiful. I always think of it as a character that looms large in the Phoenician drama. All Phoenicians have feelings and relations with this character. We all deal with it differently. Some love the heat for the relief it brings from arthritis, some love the lack of mess it creates, some love the wardrobe it requires, and some hate this heat. Admittedly, I usually do. But as my husband said this morning after the winter I always forget how hot it really gets. I always think, "It doesn't get that hot. It's really not that bad." This is what keeps us coming back for more. This romance with the Fahrenheit. This particular summer genre.

On Harstine Island

We just returned from a messy spell on Harstine Island where we visited with my dad. We were able to spend time outside in the middle of the day. This is major if you're from Phoenix. Some of the highlights:

Stella enjoyed playing in "the jungle" outside.

We went to a farmer's market with a pie lady who sells out her pies in the first ten minutes. We bought a very tasty apricot pie. I think I loved it so much because it was not just sweet but tangy, too.

Deer and squirrels ate our leftovers. They came by the back porch every day.

There was a large park in downtown Shelton that we went to a few times. The bridge was a highlight. It was also a great place to dispose of household garbage.

Lots of coloring:



We ate meals outside. Especially when the meals themselves would prove messy:

She's One

And has been celebrated thusly:

She had her birthday breakfast




And she has shown us her skillz: simultaneous drinking and ball-handling.

Oh, How Times Change

3 July 2007

Dear Stella,

You’re napping. You’ve been a good napper for some time now. Only occasionally is the process interrupted by things like little vacations that mess up your sleeping. You are definitely more fun when you’ve rested.
Sometimes when I put you down for a nap or put you to bed at night I feel bad. I feel like I’m putting you away because I’m tired of you. While I am usually tired when you are put to sleep I am never tired of you.
I needed to sit down and write you a letter to tell you how I am feeling today. This is one of the last few days before your sister is born. And while I do think that you will enjoy having and being a sister, it also makes me a little sad. The older you get the more you realize that good things make you both happy and a little sad. Sad for the way things were. Your father would probably disagree with me here, but that’s how I feel.
This time last year your dad was in Ireland studying. You and I spent the month of July together at his mom’s house and also at my dad’s house. We were a little pair of traveling vagabonds. But it was just you and I. We survived together. You slept in the bed with me and we took naps and we would go swimming. You were such a little thing then. So small and you could hardly be in the pool without tipping over. It was a lot of work to swim with you then. But we would go to the pool and have some fun, go home and eat some dinner and then you’d get ready for bed.
There wasn’t anything magical about it, but it was the only time that it will be just you and me. And that’s ok.
Anyway, the reason I started writing this was because I wanted to remember this time with you. I know that you won’t remember it in any way other than being told about it. But this time we’ve had has been good. You are my first child. You made me a mother and you’ve been a good sport along the way.
You’ve been fun to get to know. Your little personality opens up more and more and that makes me excited to see what kind of little person you will be.
However, as the time has approached for your sister’s arrival I’ve been having these sad feelings. Feelings that you and your sister will not understand unless or until you ever have your own two children. I say that because I don’t want either one of you to feel superior or inferior to the other. These sad feelings I’m having are not because I do not want your sister, they are just because life will be different.
I had similar feeling before you were born. I was sad to think of the life that your father and I had being permanently changed. And it is changed—for the better. Just as all of our lives will be changed for the better when Gianna is here and a part of things. But I used to think about “our life” as being made up of just each other—your dad and I—and I couldn’t conceive of what you’d bring to it. And you’ve brought so much.
All this is to say that today I am feeling this sad anticipation and slight anxiety about the changes that are headed our way. I am sad that “our time” is ending—you and I—and that there will be a new person in it. I am happy at the same time, though, that you will have someone who will be a part of you the way no one else can be. I don’t say that with the expectation that you and Gianna will be the best of friends. That is up to the two of you. I do hope you like each other and are able to enjoy one another, time will tell.
I know that my life has been enriched by having siblings. Of course there are times in childhood where you feel that your sibling detracts from your life in a very annoying way, but I think ultimately it is good to have someone to share your childhood with. I hope that will be the way that you enjoy your sister.
So, my Stella, my sweet little girl, “our time” is coming to a close but it is opening up to an entire new dimension of “our time.” I hope that you enjoy it immensely and I hope that I survive the next few weeks with some amount of emotional stability because right now it pains me to think of you as becoming second or feeling slighted. I think that I’m thankful that you’re young enough to not remember being the only one—but at the same time it saddens me to think that you won’t remember this time. This precious time when you were the only one that I had to worry about—when it was just you and I taking things day by day.
I hear you rousing in the next room. I will go fetch you from your slumber and even though I have two weeks until I’m due, I can’t help but wonder if each time I get your from your bed will be the last time that you’re the only one.
I love you.


Love,
Mom

A Crown For Geeg

A year ago she was on her way to us and now we prepare to celebrate that first year with her. She's a jolly lass and we love her and we always wonder about her first thing in the morning (Stella does!)

Around here we've started a birthday tradition of a one year old quilt, a birthday crown and a birthday sign. We also have breakfast with some treats and presents the day of the actual birthday.

It's been lots of fun (and hard work) getting to know our little Gianna. She's a light-hearted addition to our progeny. She likes early mornings with her dad, trying to steal your cup of water, eating pasta, raisins, grapes, listening to music and shaking her body to it, she loves her sister, her dogs and rolling in the sand at the beach.

To Sea, To Sea

We came and went. We're home now. We're much wiser. We enjoyed the beach--but not too much. We enjoyed walking--but not too much. We enjoyed going out to eat--but not too much.

I emphasize the "not too much" of it all as I think there is a tendency to squeeze too much into a vacation. As a Phoenician, I found myself thinking that I should take advantage of the nice weather and walk. Of course this is enjoyable. It's not enjoyable when it cuts into one's reading time which is equally enjoyable. I had to keep that spendthrift inside of me quiet but reminding myself that my time (and our money) would not be wasted if we spent an entire afternoon indoors reading and playing.

And so we did. And so I read The Hunchback of Notre Dame. And it was good: thrilling and unexpected and full of reasons not to give one's self entirely over to what we desire. I'm still trying to figure out who decided it would make a good Disney film. I'm assuming they kept mostly the characters and did away with the heavy plot and themes.

We also took full advantage of our digital cable and DVR thingamabob. We watched what we wanted when we wanted. And we skipped commercials! This is one technological advancement I can get behind.

I spent an inordinate amount of time mourning the loss of Tim Russert. He was, by all accounts, an incredibly brilliant, loyal, normal man who did his job well and with much passion. That's an advancement I can get behind as well.

Upon our return home we have all settled into the summer routine here. That means we're figuring out how to escape the heat.

Stella's becoming cognizant of her behaviors and their impact. This is very difficult and enjoyable at the same time as it means I experience the following conversations with her:

"Stella, why are you getting a swat?"
"I pushed."

and the flip side:

"Stella, thank you for sharing with Gianna."
"I kind."

And Gianna? She's almost one! And she's getting curly hair. And she loves to follow her sister around--crawling and doing her emergent Frankenstein walk.

I'm Cool

DSC03009
Originally uploaded by alishialinn

I was having a conversation with my sister last night in which we joked that I should post pictures from my family vacation so that everyone would think I was so cool.

We Depart!

I leave you with this video which your reaction to which will be largely dependent upon your relation to the child.



Edited to add: I cannot understand what she is saying either. That's the charm.