Stella continues to be the life of the party at our house.
She is my little free spirit, always marching to the beat of her own drum.
She is very good at getting herself dressed in the morning – I almost never have to ask her twice… but I have little to no say what she wears. (hence the pink dress, pink tights, pink shoes pictured)
After going through it twice now, I think 3 is one of my very favorite ages.
Stella is my ultra snuggler.
She can never resist a good snuggling and I can never resist her.
We spend hours throughout the day cuddled up to each other. She comes a hummin’ with her boo and I melt into a puddle.
She is the most affectionate little being. All throughout the day she’ll walk by and smooch me on the leg or arm or hand.. whatever is closest to her. I watch her grab Harlo all through the day and smooch on her, too. You never have to ask Stella twice for a kiss.
Brady gets a kick out of her being so affectionate and told me the other day “I understand you so much more now that we have Stella.” ha! I’m just as snuggly.
She is so dang cute, you guys. I can’t even handle it.
She says “thank you” no matter what! It kills me. Today as Brady put her breakfast bowl in front of her she says, “thank you, dad!” She thanks me for EVERYTHING during the day, helping with her coat, getting her boo, handing her some juice, helping her with the potty. It’s the best.
A few days ago as I was sitting in my office chair she came in and said “mom? I lub you so much, I can’t even beliebe it.” Heart. Melt.
She also told me the other day when my sister’s dogs were over, “Mom, they’re so dorable! I can’t even handle it!”
We have started having an issue with her saying “oh my God” instead of “oh my gosh”.
It started with Harlo, which we just ignored but after a few times I explained to her that it wasn’t really appropriate to say “oh my God” unless we’re actually talking about God or saying prayers and that it’s better to say “oh my gosh”, or “oh my word” or “oh my goodness” instead. Of course my Harlo was quick to change her ways, never wanting to say anything “bad”.
Stella on the other hand, overheard me telling this to Harlo and she decided to start saying “oh my God”. She’s too dang smart. So for a few days I would correct her but that seemed to be just fueling the fire for this little sass-pants.
Then we were watching the Katy Perry movie and I realized that’s where they had overheard it… Stella noticed it in the movie as well and I just simply told her, “I will let you watch Katy Perry, but if you start saying words you’re not supposed to say when you watch it, I’m going to have to take it away.” That helped…. sort of.
Now she’s the “oh my God” police and she’ll quickly come to me anytime she’s heard the phrase and say, “Mom, Katy Perry said ‘oh my God,’ but you’re not supposed to say ‘oh my God’, you’re supposed to say ‘oh my GOSH’ or ‘oh my WORD’, not ‘oh my God,’ huh mom. You’re not supposed to say ‘oh my God’, that’s not appropriate to say ‘oh my god’ only ‘oh my GOSH’, huh.”
For the most part, at least SHE has stopped saying it… unless of course she’s quoting it from someone else or explaining what we don’t say in which case, she uses the opportunity to say it 6-10 times.
This parenting thing you guys, it’s no walk in the park.
But hearing her say “OH. MY. WORD.” in her little Stella accent is the best thing you’ve ever heard.
She says the cutest things all day every day and it pains me that I’m going to miss some of them because there are so many.
The other day while we were laying in bed, she said “mom, I have daddy’s eyebrowns and he has mines.” (I hope she appreciates those luscious brows some day!)
Santa’s magical elves have shown up at our house to keep on eye on things. Stella is particularly interested in them and if they move around and she warns every person who comes through our door that you CAN’T TOUCH THEM or THEY LOSE THEIR MAGIC! So don’t even think about it.
The other day the elves were sitting on top of my cook book shelves (out of even my reach) and I went to grab a cook book on the bottom shelf and Stella yells, “DON’T TOUCH THE ELF!” “I didn’t!,” I said, “I won’t.” and she says “Mom, I almost saw you touch it!” with a disapproving look on her face.
She has suddenly been taking naps again out of the blue. If I have her come snuggle me any time after 1:00 she’ll usually fall right into a snooze fest. Also, if we drive ANYWHERE after about that time, she’s out pretty much by the time we pull out of the driveway. She must be going through a little growth spurt because she hasn’t been napping regularly for months.
She has gotten so tall and thinned out so much in the last few months. She’s now just a few inches shorter than Harlo and only about 4 lbs lighter. Her legs have gotten long and thinner and her belly is dwindling, but still there. And thank goodness she still has some goo left on those cheeks and double chin.
The days of her being my teeniest baby are dwindling and that very thought alone forms a lump in my throat.
I know she’ll be my baby forever and that things wont change with us just like having her didn’t change my relationship with Harlo, but there’s something about having another baby that seems to threaten that relationship before you can understand how it will be, and that is so hard.
When we told the girls we were having another baby, Stella started to cry (because she didn’t want a brother), she ran to my arms and I held my baby in the kitchen and wept and wept and wept with her. My heart felt like it was being ripped in two.
Some days I can’t wait until she can experience the magic of being a big sister. I know she will be such a great one. But other days I get sad that her days as my littlest girl are going to be gone.
I love that she’s so into my pregnancy and this baby and so excited for her to get here. God has really helped heal my heart in this way.
One thing I know for absolutely sure is that no one could ever possibly replace Stella’s place in my heart. She is so much mine.
I love this little one so much it hurts my heart.
I hope that every day of her life, she knows that.
Stella continues to be the life of the party at our house.