Bella* has some definite outstanding qualities. Things that make her extra unique. Her story-telling abilities know no bounds. She’s a non-stop chatterbox and out of that mouth, and that wildly spinning mind, come some of my life’s most dumbfounding moments. Here are some recents:
1) She’s six. On Monday night at 11pm, I went to crawl into bed and heard her- in her room, still awake. I flew in there like a bat outta hell determined to lay down the Mommy law. I said to her, “Bella! It is 11 o’clock. WHY are you still awake???” <hand on hip, mouth agape, crazy-eyes wide open> And this is the response I get: “You know what Mom? I just…I don’t know. Man…I’m gonna be really tired tomorrow.” and she lays down. I pretty much just closed the door and walked out. Kid stole all my roarin thunder. I had a million lectures prepared and she gave herself one.
2) She has a massive crush on a boy at school. This is not news. The word social butterfly was invented for girls like Bella. We rotate through a lot of “I just like him, ok?!” phases in our house. Tuesday she comes home from school and says, “So I’m gonna tell you something and try not to get mad. Ok?” Obviously I’m about to get mad. So I say, “Sure.” cause I’m an idiot. “So Alex was like touching my hair and stuff and saying how nice my dress was and stuff and we were like slapping five and stuff and then he like…well, he hugged me. Ok? It’s no big deal mom. We just hugged. It’s fine.” And she’s looking at me like: watchathinkaboutTHAT? And I honestly didn’t know what to think. I was left stuttering and saying shit like, “You know we really shouldn’t be like…touching our friends at school, right? Like…we can be friends and stuff and maybe high fives are fine but maybe we don’t hug people. And I’m not saying it’s bad to hug people and stuff, I’m just saying like…….” on and on and on til her eyes glaze over and all she’s hearing by the end of my unplanned life lesson is <wah, wah, wah, wah, wah, wah>. Seriously…we’re already hugging? We moved right passed the cooties and boogers and gross stage? Sigh…
This girl of mine, and she’s definitely all mine, makes my face do this: O_O at least 80% of the time she talks anymore. Her stories start out at the very beginning (“So…um…yesterday? At school? Well, like at the bus stop?…) and never miss a single detail (“…she had this hat with purple and blue and like swirls and on the inside it was white and had this stain on the…) and would go on for hours if we let them. And sometimes we do. Because we’re in stitches by the end of it. Ryan and I do a lot of shaking our heads at each other which, if caught by the story-teller, begets a shrill “You GUYS!” like she’s 12 or something.
Sweet mother of mercy… someone tranq me when she becomes a teenager. Ok?
*no, my daughter was not named after the Twilight character. She’s six, she came well before the glitter boys and girls. Plus, I have at least a little self-respect.**