This is what I have for you:
Santa Mike and Santa Rose are giving George and Della a swingset/playground for Christmas, with a little help from manly builder elves Steve and Scott.
It was slow going at first, but Della and Annie were satisfied early and easily.
Yes, it was T-shirt weather. Some car thermometers read 74 degrees. We had a Chipotle picnic.
Big playground reveal coming soon!
Couple of days ago Della started saying “f***”. Over and over in the living room. She finally pointed to a picture of a frog in a Christmas catalog, and we all had a good laugh. Later, wrapped in her froggy towel, she started chanting what sounded like “f*** it”, but she was just meaning “froggy,” bless her heart.
But it’s been awhile since Della has seen any frogs, or pictures of frogs, or frogs on TV. So why does she keep saying “f***” and “f*** it”? I think she kind of knows what she’s saying, and she knows, like we do, that “f***” and “f*** it” are becoming our household themes.
F*** (I care enough to be annoyed)
George spit up in my hair.
George is projectile pooping.
Two is not enough adults to hold Della down for diapering and dressing.
Della is about to fall off of something and hit her head.
Della is about to run into the corner of something with her head.
F*** it (I don’t care anymore)
George doesn’t need a new outfit every time he spits up.
Della can watch TV and drink juice.
We’re having McDonald’s hash browns and chicken and biscuit for breakfast.
Della can play with markers and draw on her face.
I’m done hiding that big thing of pens and markers. I’m throwing it away.
From Della’s perspective, it’s: Frog! The Caterpillar Club is closed for a teacher work thing? WTF am I going to do all day? Be gentle and wear clothes? Frog that. Frog no I’m not going down for my nap. Oh froggy. I’ll just curl up with my duck and dream I have a different family.
Here she is getting tortured before paying a visit to Lee District’s soft playroom. You can tell she’s definitely thinking some four-letter thoughts.
I wanted to take more pictures but it was “waining,” and there were lots of things to hold: Della, umbrella, treats, ripped/unusable treat bag, Santa hat, camera with no lens cap, unzippable purse with Della’s dry clothes. It was fun. In the beginning, when everybody was getting ready, Della tried to put a pink pig puppet on her head because she couldn’t find her hat.
Here are the kids breaking down the day care door, anxious to get at it.
Della was Santa.
Daddy showed up. His boss probably thought he was on a job interview. He made Steve show him pictures as proof.
Here’s just a seasonal photo to wrap things up. I don’t know how she got that scratch under her eye. Probably from her scary claws. Claus. To bring it full circle.
In September Della started a new daycare. Here we are on our way to Back to School Night.
Some things to know:
-They say Della is good, doesn’t shove, likes to play outside and is shy.
-They call her Dellita and Mama and Little Mama.
-The other day she fell asleep in a laundry basket and slept there for 30 minutes.
For an after-summer break, we rented a minivan and cruised to the partying-est of Delaware beaches, Dewey Beach.
Nanny and Bappa came with us!
They bought Della TWO monkeys with belly buttons you can stick your finger in. Nothing, bought for any price, could have made any of us any happier that day.
The next day, there was a huge scene when Daddy let Della hold a flock of stuffed duckies at the Orvis outlet, with no intention of buying them for her. The only thing that could (temporarily) relieve her suffering was a ride in this coin-operated motor boat.
At night, Della took in classic short films, including “Mickey and the Beanstalk” and “Gulliver Mickey.”
As for Della’s beach skills: improving, but room for improvement. She likes to chase the waves and is not scared of them. She is still eating sand by the handful. She calls the ocean “wah-wah” and gives seagulls and sandpipers love usually reserved for dogs, cats, babies, and animal sippy cups.
Here is a nice un-enhanced iPhone photo courtesy of Bappa Mike
Back home after the beach vacation was over, Nanny and Bappa babysat for two days straight. Day one they visited every toddler’s favorite fun land: the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.
They say she enjoyed seeing all the babies, i.e., the Jesus babies.
The next day they went to the zoo.
We had a great visit, and Della had more fun than two monkeys in a stroller with a baby. Love you and thank you!
A lot of undocumented stuff going on around here:
-Della got a pink baby with a bottle. She shares the bottle with herself and with me. I try to show her that there’s a baby in my tummy by holding the bottle up to my belly button. Now she holds the bottle up to the baby doll’s belly button, so I don’t think she’s getting it.
-Della got her own rib on Saturday. She tried to feed the rib to the baby. Now we have a ribby polyester baby with barbecue stains I can’t get out.
-We say “how about” more than we realize. How about a bath? How about a snack? How about a nap? How about a walk. Now it’s one of the few things Della says. For her it is also an affirmative exclamation. “Della, how ’bout some cheese?” “How ‘BOUT!”
-She also starts a lot of her nonsense sentences with “Um…” so I guess we say that a lot too.
Here’s an action shot of Della coming off the pool slide.