G is for girls

Move over boys, there's a new girl in town. OK, this isn't exactly breaking news. She's been around for two years now, but we've taken a couple of years off from Sesame Street in our house. Well, now that Noni's approaching two, we're back full force. And I was delighted to turn it on today and find a new girl in a starring lead role. It shouldn't really be that amazing. There are now a whopping total of three leading ladies on Sesame Street (Zoe, Rosita, and now Abby Cadabby) and I'm counting nine guys (Cookie Monster, Count Von Count, Grover, Elmo, Baby Bear, Telly, Snuffy, Big Bird, Oscar the Grouch). But, hey, at least we're making progress. While Sesame Street was started in 1969, the first female puppet wasn't introduced until Zoe popped up in 1992. So for 23 years, they produced a show for girls and boys...only without thinking that maybe they should add, you know, a girl! Well, at least Abby Cadabby is here now. Maybe she can shake her wand a few times and create six more girls to balance things out in her 'hood. Then they can take the boys on for a little Sesame Street soccer. Cookie Monster will provide the snacks.

Oh, the weather outside is...pleasant?

This afternoon, the girls and I went to a holiday cookie exchange. When we walked into Sarah's house, we were greeted by a familiar scene - a tree with lights and a table covered with holiday cookies. The kids ran around, high on sugar, as we sat on the couch and chatted about, amongst other things, an upcoming Christmas party and a holiday lights show.

Walking to the party, I didn't think twice about our surroundings, but walking home after enjoying such classic holiday scene, I was suddenly struck by the weather. Lucy and Evie ran and scootered ahead of me in shorts and t-shirts while I pushed a barefoot Noni in the stroller wearing flip-flops, jeans and a tank top. When the girls stopped to marvel at a house decorated in over-the-top Christmas lights, I took in the sight of the dark palm trees towering over the festive house. We are about to experience our first California Christmas and, frankly, I love it.

My mom sent me photos today of her two dogs sleeping amidst a pile of cotton, torn out from pillows that had been lying on the floor. She titled it "photos from a rainy day rampage" and it suddenly brought to mind afternoons inside our house with the girls going stir crazy, the weather too cold for them to play outside. There have been times in my life when I've really appreciated cold weather. I love snowboarding and cross country skiing. I also love the feeling of a warm fire and cup of tea after a brisk walk in the cold. With kids though, the romance of the cold quickly disappears when you've spent three days cooped up indoors. I remember one winter in DC when Lucy was a baby and we were literally snowed in the house for days. I turned on the television, put Lucy in the Bjorn and walked up and down the stairs over and over, hoping that it would stir up some endorphins to help me get through the day.

I think it's clear from my post about Frederick that I miss it back east and will always be an east coaster heart. But there are some things I do love about Los Angeles. The weather in December is definitely one of the things at the top of that list.

Number 3

“Three, it’s a magic number.“ - Jack Johnson

My friend Joanna is the youngest of three girls. She once told me that she found three scrapbooks at her mom’s house, each with a name of one of the girls on the front. She opened her oldest sister’s album. It was full of pictures and notes about first words and first steps. Her middle sister’s album wasn’t quite as complete, but there were still a good amount of pictures in it. She came to her album and it opened with a resounding crack. It was the first time that it had ever been opened. She was horrified that her mom could forget her, though she said that once she had children of her own this horror turned into understanding. I listened to her and put my hand protectively on my pregnant belly and vowed that our third daughter would have a scrapbook of her own.

On June 22, 2007, Noelle Bethea came into the world. After three years of waiting, I couldn’t believe she had finally arrived. Two miscarriages had lead me to believe we would never have another healthy baby, but “Noni” was the picture of health - she skipped the scrawny newborn stage altogether and came into the world with chubby cheeks and a perfectly round belly. I spent the first two days of her life in the hospital with her, talking to her, nursing her and trying to soak her all in.

On the third day of her life, the hurricane of her two sisters arrived. Chatting a mile a minute, they burst into the room and announced they were there to take us home. Toby picked up Noni in his arms and I thought, “Goodbye little baby, it was nice to know you!”
That’s a little dramatic of course. She basically didn’t leave my sight or my arms for months, but I really felt her more than I saw her. She was the pleasant warm weight that I carried around as I rushed to soccer, school, brownies, gymnastics and ballet. She fell asleep in the car, in the stroller, in my arms, but was often awakened to be dragged elsewhere and rarely saw the inside of her crib. She listened to me help her sister with homework or read to her older sisters, but rarely did I talk directly to her. Her first year went by in a blur that, frankly, I barely remember.

This year, for the first time since that hospital room, she and I have some time alone together. For four hours a day, five days a week, her sisters head off to school and it’s just the two of us. Granted, most of that time is spent at the grocery store or Target or vacuuming the house. But, without being interrupted, I am able to teach her new words by pointing out the different fruits and vegetables to her and she has her own little vacuum that goes alongside mine.

Being a third child has definitely affected her personality. At least once an hour, during our mornings together, she rushes to the door saying “Yoosh, Yoosh”, imploring me to get Lucy from school. When she falls, she’s just as likely to ask for “Edie, Edie” as for “Mama”. Her sisters are influencing her life at least as much as Toby and I are. While her life is often chaotic, this is the benefit of being the third child - she has a lot of people to learn from and to love.

Fifteen months later, I still don’t have that scrapbook. But, times have changed a little. I do have hundreds of photos of her on Flickr and a blog to help record her childhood. So Noni, if you are reading this thirty years from now, I’m sorry I never made you an album. And, yes, you did get lost in the fray from time to time. But never doubt that we have always loved you very, very much.