Somewhere, Neil Armstrong is Smiling.

After Friday dinner and ice cream with Gigi and Grizz. Ellie was so excited to see the moon with Grizz, and when I came outside (a few steps behind them) there was the most glorious, uproariously toddler laughter, because Grizz was standing in front of the palm trees and was tipping a little to the left and a little to the right, so that sometimes the moon was visible and sometimes it was blocked. She was such a delight.

Then when we got to our house, we walked on to the drive way to see the blue moon yet again, and Ellie started telling us about how she was going to catch the moon, and catch the stars. "I can catch dem! I can catch da moon!"

And then when we walked inside she looked over Tim's shoulder and waved "good night moon, good night stars."

Worst Moment Ever.

E: These are buttons on my dress.
Me: These are called sequins.
E: They are called buttons. 

I AM SO DISAPPOINTED. I HAVE FAILED AS A MOTHER. Sure, my child can talk in complete sentences before the age of 2, but she can't even identify a SEQUIN. I will be laying face down in the ditch, if anyone needs me.

Just kidding. I will beat it into her.

Just kidding. I will burn all of her clothes and let her walk around in burlap, like the INGRATE she is.

But moving on. 

Ellie is SO happy that Gigi has returned. We picked her up at the airport on Wednesday, and I expected Beans to run screaming to her Gigi. She seemed more stunned by the hustle and bustle of the airport, but was incredibly happy to get to ride up and down the escalator with Gigi. Then yesterday when we went over before lunch, Gigi was still at the Y. Ellie immediately burst into tears when Grizz told her Gigi was gone, and then she walked around the downstairs crying for Gigi. Poor Grizz. His tenure as the favorite grandparent was sadly brief (he'll have a moment in the sun tonight during ice cream time.)

Ice cream time has actually helped us learn a lot about "waiting our turn." Now when we're stopped at stop lights, Ellie will say "is not our turn," and then when I start driving, she exclaims "it's OUR turn!" Overall though, she has no patience (neither do I.)

The other thing I adore about her lately is our bed time routine. She gets in her jammies (which she pronounces as "pee-jammies") and brushes all those fangs, and then comes in to sit on my lap in her rocking chair. We read Goodnight Moon, and she searches for the mouse on each page. Then when we've said goodnight to everyone, I pick her up and she says "goodnight to Ellie." We sing her lullaby and she waits to give each of us a big kiss on the lips, and then we plop her in bed and someone (usually Tim) sits with her until she falls asleep. Someday, we'll get up and walk out. SOMEDAY. 

This week she's worked on getting herself OUT of bed. The other morning at 5am we heard her crying, and Tim found her out in the living room (thankfully, she went back to bed pretty easily.) On Wednesday she was napping at Gigi's, and all of a sudden I realized she was downstairs with me. She'd gotten up, gotten a little rabbit figurine off the night stand, let herself out of the spare room and trucked down the stairs, rabbit and stuffed animal in hand. She's a funny one, that girl. 

UCLA!

Go Fight Win!

Biscuit.

I think this video is self explanatory in its hilariousness. We have NO idea why she hates Biscuit and the Frog, but she hates him. I blame his bonkers eyes.

Lately, all we do is read. Read read read. Read the same books about Biscuit and kittens OVER AND OVER AGAIN. I am ready to buy her some Hooked on Phonics so she can learn to read on her own and cut me a break, because I am tired of the Little Kitten and the Little Puppy and Biscuit and the Hen.

Tonight we were putting her books away and she picked up Biscuit (book one) and read the whole thing to herself, quietly. A step in the right direction! Next we'll tackle Biscuit and the Frog again.

Birthday Partaaaaaays!

Saturday, in Griffith Park for Liam's first birthday (his mom Emily is my old coworker)

Absolutely loved the carousel!

Also loved having a balloon

Sunday, at a local "splash pad" for Tre's second birthday (the oldest in our group of mommy friends)

She went absolutely caaaaaah-razy for the water, which did not surprise me. She also loves to be sprayed with the hose and have water dumped straight over her head, and she has no problem getting splashed square in the face when we're swimming. She's has that Thiel, mean-splashing streak.

Also went for a quick horseback ride with Lexi

And wept when we tried to take a group photo

Tonight we got to have dinner with Lucas Fluffcisco, who was in the area for the weekend. After several very trying, very stressful months, he is out of the hospital and at home with his wonderful parents. He is still on medication and supplemental nutrition because how much of his intestines had to be removed, but they are working on solids and hoping that by the time he starts school, this will all be a distant memory and he will be normally medically. Since we saw him last, he's put on a ton of weight and grown inches, and is looking GREAT! Thanks to diligent work, he's also catching up developmentally. Now we're just looking forward to a big first birthday celebration for our favorite boy, a week before Elizabeth turns 2.

Look at these two melonheads!

Potty Training.

I feel like I'm getting a lot of questions about potty training lately. I personally don't think we're there yet. For one, Ellie is not even two yet. For two, she will usually tell me WHILE she's pooping, but she won't tell me that she has to go poop (which means I can't get her into the bathroom in time.) For three, *I* am not ready. Potty training means a lot of long days at home, lots of trips to the bathroom, and then having to make all errands very short, while also learning where every public bathroom is located (and how clean or disgusting each bathroom is.)

Plus, I feel like people act like potty training means you're done dealing with your kid's bathroom functions, and as I understand it, you still have to supervise and wipe their butts. Potty training does not mean I'm done asking the question "did you poop?" And there's no award for having the youngest kid ever to quit using diapers. I mean, you don't have to buy diapers anymore, but they're not that big of a deal.

Anyhow. Long story short. Yesterday we were playing at a friend's house, splashing around in the water table in just a diaper. And then Ellie begged to take off her water logged diaper, and I told her she could, but reminded her that she'd need to tell me if she had to go poop so we could poop in the toilet. You know where this is going, right? She totally crapped in the backyard. You can call her Dog Baby.

I did however, finally buy her a little potty. It might be worth to just start practicing. I promise I won't start taking pictures and posting on facebook about every time she poops in the potty. Blech.

Discipline.

We have moved on to that super fun part of parenting where we have to start disciplining. Not every one of Ellie's problem can be solved with a diaper change or a feeding. Now, there is whining. There are wants that cannot be met. There are neeeeeeeeeeeds that have to be ignored, because sorry, you can't pet Lulu while she's trying to use the litterbox. Cry all you want kid!

I always felt like my parents were strict but fair growing up, and I'd like to hope I'll be the same to Ellie. We are trying not to use the "smack the kid around" school of discipline, which leaves us with 1) ignoring her behavior and letting her be some wild, untamed hippie brat or 2) having to use our words with her (sometimes sternly) and administer time outs. The latter strategy seems to be working pretty okay. She knows what behavior earns her an instant time out (hitting, kicking, generally being a horrible, mean little child) and even though time out means being put in a room by herself for literally, a grand total of 30 seconds, the threat of such a wretched fate usually causes her to straighten right up.

We also spend a lot of time saying things like, "how do you ask?" (prompting her to say please) "please use your listening ears" and a lot of "I can't hear you when you whine like that."

So, yesterday morning she started whining to watch the Cat in the Hat. I told her no, we weren't going to watch Cat in the Hat until after our walk (ie: when I need to take a shower and have the television baby sit her.) She kept asking, so the conversation quickly went from "not until after our walk" to just "mommy told you no!" When she kept whining, I picked her up, plopped her on the step in the foyer and explained "mommy told you no Cat in the Hat. You need to use your listening ears. Mommy said no," and then walked away, and ignored her. She sat on the step for a good five minutes, just whining and weeping. When she calmed down, I asked her if she wanted to read a book, and she wiped her snotty nose on the back of her hand, came over and climbed in my lap to read the Poky Little Puppy. But on her way across the living room, she told me "I sit on big step. I cwy. I sit on big step and I cwy." She also made sure to tell Cara that she'd sat and cried when we met for our walk a half hour later. Because you know, I am SO cruel and mean.

The good news is, when I made her explain to Gigi why she sat and cried, she told Gigi that she'd cried because she hadn't used her listening ears. Thank goodness some of it is finally sinking in.