Tag: D

Della turns 4 years old today. 4!!

I just went back and read my post from her birthday last year, and I can honestly say not a ton has changed. She is still as wonderful, smart, funny, caring, and conscientious as always. Just throw in the additions of Frozen as her new favorite everything, a pedal bike with training wheels of which you can barely get her off, and about 3 inches in legs, and you have her four-year-old self.

I tell her to stop growing so fast almost every day, to which she always replies, “I can’t! I’m a kid, and kids can’t change their numbers.” Meaning she can’t stop getting older. Too bad for me.

 2010

 2011

2012

2013

2014

I’m afraid there’s no denying it – there is no baby left in this little girl. She is full-blown kid. I still catch traces of that sweet, sweet baby girl we brought home 4 years ago when she’s sleeping, but as soon as those magnificent eyes open, the kid in her awakens and she’s off and running.

Happy, happy birthday, my amazing Della Jolee!! We love you so very much and wish for nothing more than to celebrate a long lifetime full of these days.

 

There have been a couple occurrences in the past 2 weeks or so that have made me start wondering if Della is somewhat clairvoyant.

Almost 2 weeks ago, I learned that one of my best friend’s father had lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. Then the following morning, I found out that the very best friend of one of my cousins had died suddenly and unexpectedly. They were both wonderful men, the latter a life cut far, far too short. My cousin’s friend was only in his mid-30s, perfect health, amazing spirit, and leaves behind an equally young wife and a baby girl who just turned 1. My heart still breaks every time I think of his passing, because it’s just so unfair on so many levels. Tragic doesn’t even begin to describe it.

But back to Della.

Shortly after I learned about my cousin’s friend, I was looking at a picture of the 2 of them on Facebook. Della asked who that was, and I told her it was Ethan and his friend Jim. (we had just spent some time with Ethan and the rest of my family in Tucson for another cousin’s wedding, so he was fresh in her memory.) Out of nowhere, Della asked, “Did Jim die?”

Woah, what the? I was honestly speechless.

I had mentioned nothing about either man dying out loud that morning, because it was just me and the girls at home. I had been talking to Ryan about it via messages on the computer, but there’s no way Della would have known what I was typing about. And I had been tearing up looking at pictures of Jim and reading tributes about him, but when Della was in the room and asked if he had died I wasn’t even visibly upset at all.

So I told her that yes, Jim did die. She asked why, and I said well, his heart got really sick and stopped being able to pump all the good blood through his body that helps us live. (she’s been curious about why people die lately, and i’ve tried to take a pseudo-scientific tack that a 3 year old would understand. not being very religious or spiritual myself, i tend to steer away from the god and heaven parts and more toward the well sometimes when people’s bodies get really old or sick, they don’t work right anymore and they just stop being alive. and yes, she’s asked if we will die, and i’ve said yes, we’ll die someday too, but not for a long time. and when we do, don’t worry. we’ll all see each other again someday. i really do believe that part, just not necessarily that it’ll be behind pearly gates. more in a sense like we’ll all just be waiting for each other to get the party started again on the other side. in our best eras, not in the sickly or unfortunate ways in which we may leave this earthly body. it seems to work and be satisfactory for her.)

Fast forward to last week Tuesday. Della was with me in our bedroom, and I think I was making the bed, or some such mundane daily task. Completely unprompted and unrelated to anything we had been talking about that morning, she asked me if we were going to hear that song that Daddy and I were dancing to in that picture at our wedding. (we have 2 framed pictures of us from our first dance in the dining room that we always look at.)

That day was our anniversary. Again, something about which she knew nothing.

I was speechless again. I just had to laugh and said why yes, we actually might hear that song today, because today is the same day Daddy and I got married, just 8 years later. Then that night all 4 of us danced to “At Last”, our wedding song.

Then Wednesday of last week it happened again. I work at the gym Wednesday mornings and I asked her how she wanted to wear her hair as we were getting ready to go, and at first she said “regular hair”, meaning down with no piggies or clips. Then she changed her mind and wanted a ponytail, because her friend Josie (who’s always there on Wednesdays) might wear piggies that day. Well sure shit, when we got to the kids room, there was Josie. With pigtails.

This is crazy!

Am I reading too much into this? Are these just extremely odd coincidences? Or are kids just really, incredibly intuitive, picking up on stuff that our adult brains are much too crowded to catch?

Or does she really have a little extra sense of perception that the rest of us lack?

Ryan said he was clairvoyant as a kid, too, and that it does run in families. Is that true? Or was he simply testing my gullibility yet again? And if he wasn’t just yanking my chain, why would people stop being clairvoyant?

Either way, this is just 1 more thing to add to the list of how this child never ceases to amaze me.

 

 

 

I know I’ve been writing about her a lot lately, but I just can’t get enough of Della right now. She’s such a sweet, beautiful, curious little girl, and I love her to death.

I keep meaning to get her on film saying all these things, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. So I’ll jot them down before she learns how to say everything correctly and her funny little phrases are a thing of the past. They make me smile every time I hear them.

Here are some 3-year-old Della-isms:

Slippers = beepers or bippers

McDonald’s = Old McDonald’s

Please = feeze

Sleep = beep

You’re welcome = you’re melcome (this one’s my favorite)

Popsicle = pock-si-ple

Ketchup = chechup

When flushing the toilet after pooping = “Bye-bye, boo-boos. See you next year on poop day!” (no idea)

While eating dinner = “This is the best supper you ever made!” (or best crackers you ever bought or best juice you ever made or best grapes you ever put in my bowl, etc. she’s very complimentary)

What the chickens say in Old McDonald = f*ck, f*ck, f*ck (that darn cl- sounds trips her up, ha!)

I know there are a bunch I’m forgetting, but these are the main ones I’ve wanted to capture for posterity. L sounds and S sounds are still her biggest sticking points, so some words become quite comical. Ah, the world of a toddler.

 

 

Della had her first trip to the dentist yesterday. It was so cute! Both the hygienist and dentist are incredible women and made her whole experience fun, so she loved it.

They said her teeth look great, and we’re doing a good job brushing twice a day. We’ll start using her little flossers nightly, too, because her lower molars are touching in the back, which I hadn’t even realized.

Doesn’t she look ridiculously adorable in these shades?? They had her wear them to keep the light and water splashes out of her eyes, even though she didn’t really want to at first.

We made her next appointment for 6 months out when we left, so she’s all set. Lana gets to go to that one, too, they said. Good thing, because it was all I could do to keep her on my lap, she wanted up in that chair so badly. So of course she had to get a toothbrush to chew on, too. Calming the dragon, always a good strategy.

 

I just can’t help but be more and more amazed by Della every day. She is, hands down, one of the kindest, gentlest, sweetest, most wonderful people I have ever known.

She is so conscientious, not just for a 3-year-old, but more so than most 30-year-olds.

I have been complimented on her excellent manners numerous times.

She gets quiet and a little upset when others around her get mad or sad.

She leaves the room when watching a show when a part comes on she doesn’t like – usually when someone is doing something against the rules and she knows they’re going to get in trouble.

She loves to help in the kitchen. “Mixa, mixa, mixa” is one of her favorite phrases while helping stir. I just realized today that this comes from Daniel Tiger, as I heard it when he was helping his parents make strawberry pancakes.

She comes running when Lana is getting into trouble and she hasn’t been able to stop her.

She loves curling up in a ball in my arms to be carried into bed after making all of our different faces in the mirror.

She lays her little head in the palm of my hand and strokes my arm, my hair, my back as I sing her naptime and bedtime songs.

She asks if we’re still happy when she knows she’s done something wrong and thinks we’re going to get upset. I tell her that even when I’m not happy about something she’s done, I will always be happy about her.

On our way home from the gym after she’s been playing in the kids room all morning, I always ask if she was happy that day and if anyone made her sad or mad about anything. So far so good on all yeses for happy things and nos for sad or mad ones.

She likes to play by herself as much as with her friends.

She loves playing outside, especially in the snow to make snow angels and catch flakes on her tongue.

She always tells me she loves me and to have sweet dreams, too, when I put her to bed.

I just can’t get enough of her. Every time I look at or think about her I just hope and pray that she always stays so beautiful on the inside like she is out. May nothing ever corrupt the goodness that overflows her heart.