January 26th, 2012
“Look Mama, I’m ballerin-ing!”
Yesterday morning as we were getting ready for the day, I turned to see this girl lightly and steadily walking her way along the ledge of our bed, arms held out at her shoulders.
“Look Mama!”
“Oh you’re balancing!!”
“Yea!”
She ran to the other side of the bed and performed her balancing act on the opposite ledge. And then:
“Look Mama, I’m ballerin-ing!”
This time I turned to face a tiny little ballerina, holding the sweetest little ballet pose. She was even pointing her toes. She held it long enough for me to grab my phone, frozen with pride. I’m so glad she let me capture it.
What a sweet little ballerina. I can’t wait to get her in class. I think she’s going to love it.
tags: Ella
I thought this was a party...LET’S DANCE!
January 17th, 2012
These are the tales of a little girl, small and feisty, my blondy-blue, who is coming of age and bringing her parents along on her extraordinary ride.
I heard her little feet shuffle out of her room just before I saw her toes peek around the hallway into the front room. Her bedtime music had stopped and “See? My eyes still aren’t closed.” She dawdled over to the sofa where I was attempting to crochet the day’s stresses away.
“Mama, I want to share a orange wiss you. You know? Sit on the fofa nexta you and eat it wiss you.”
“But Ella, it’s bedtime. We can share an orange in the morning, let’s go get back in bed.” I stood up and together, we both shuffled our way back down the hall.
And here began a mini battle over the orange we were meant to share at 9:30 at night. It was a battle between a slight little girl with heavy half-awake eyes and a frazzled mommy just eager for the day’s end. She wouldn’t back down about that orange and I couldn’t grasp the point of this battle we were engaged in.
THREE is . . . confusing. Trying. Frustrating. Challenging.
It is also so very rewarding and most often fun, but lately it seems that THREE is dishing us more of the above. The past few days have been rough.
Ella has owned her sass since the very day she turned two. She gave me a swift initiation into the “Terribles” and it was our hardest day to date. But it seems that more recently every tiny disagreement or conflict escalates into a full-fledged battle so quickly. Like this little story about the orange…
We walked back to her room, where Daddy sat on her bed ready to perform his nightly back-rub duties.
“But I juss want to share a orange!”
“Ella, I know you want to have an orange right now. But it’s bedtime right now. We will share one in the morning, at breakfast, okay?” I spoke slowly, if only to keep myself calm at this point. I was careful to acknowledge her want and offer an alternative.
This technique is something that seemed to come naturally when we first entered this battling phase. Conflict would arrive and I’d pull it from my parenting tool belt without even thinking. But somehow with time it’s been forgotten and too often replaced with impatience and blunt responses on my part.
The past few days have made me conscious to remember this tactic now, to keep it on hand at the front of my brain. It’s something I believe to be crucial in helping her understand her self-worth. I want her to know, always, that someone understands her predicament, that someone wants to help, and that right now and whenever she needs it to be, that someone is me. I’m realizing it is her first time being three, just as it’s my first time parenting a three year old. We’re both beginners here. We’re both discovering limits and testing out boundaries with one another. We’re in this experience together.
“We will share an orange at breakfast, alright?” I repeated as I pulled the covers up under her chin.
Her face grew confused, the corners of her mouth began to tug down just enough to weigh down my heart.
“But I said the wrong thing on accident. I don’ want a orange, I juss want a hug and a kiss.”
A hug and a kiss. Her go-to request when she realizes she’s pushed too far and wants to rectify all that’s gone wrong between her mommy and daddy and her.
It’s an acknowledgment and an apology and a dose of cute all in one, and when the phrase is spoken to Anthony or I, everything stops. She requests a hug and a kiss and she pulls the hand-brake and everything, suddenly, an in instant, comes to a halt. We melt a little, Anthony and I, and she’s in our arms that very second. Then just like that, with the flip of another switch, she’s running off to a new adventure.
She is seemingly unphased, but I carry the scenario with me until I am asleep in bed. I wonder if I could have prevented the conflict. Where I could have stopped it sooner. If she really is unphased, or if she is hiding it. Does she have the ability to hide her feelings at the age of three? Will she remember this next time we’re in a similar situation? Did she learn from this? And just as importantly, what did I learn from this?
Well I think I can say I am learning a lot, but very slowly…
We start each day fresh, with yesterday’s teachings under our belt. And we try to do better.
This is where we are. Right now, together.
All I can do is watch this magnificent tiny being as she fumbles around in this body, making her way in this world, completely and brazenly shaping mine. What a ride, my blondy-blue. Don’t ever stop molding and teaching me.
tags: Ella, Tales of Ella
I thought this was a party...LET’S DANCE!
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