No Biiiting, Stella

I cannot believe that Stella is going to be 18 months old on Thursday. It seems like she has really dropped the whole baby act and has blossomed into this little girl with thoughts, feelings, interests, and a hand on each hip sassiness to match her brother's feisty tendencies. She babbles and expresses and articulates and chatters from sun-up to sun-down.

If she had to choose a favorite word right now, I would say she would have a tough choice between No and Bite. In Stella's world, no has become a necessary evil. And she has perfected its sound. It's quick. It's sharp. It's to the point. And if you didn't catch it the first time, she's happy to repeat it. A lot.

It's time to change your diaper.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, she answers.

But lately, bite has become a popular word. It, too, has a certain succinct quality. Biiite. The i is ever-so-slightly drawn out, but the t is sharp; perfectly enunciated. And its use has various meanings. Mostly it has to do with her great interest in eating. At dinner, after she has eaten multiple helpings of Rotini Marina, she will eye everyone else's plate and say, Biiite.

When we are making our way through the Trader Joe's and she sees someone enjoying a sample, she practically falls out of the cart, leaning in their savory delectable's direction, staring at them, screeching, Biiite. And until that person acknowledges that she is asking for a biiite of their food, she will continue to say it. Biiite, biiite, biiite.

Bite took on a new meaning for Stella this morning. While Heath was at school, I took her out for a spin in the jogging stroller. Elmo tagged along, as he so often does these days. She was holding him by the neck, chattering and giggling away with her red furry friend. Then she grabbed him by the face and said, Biiite. Chomp! Right on his orange, ovally, honker. She took his nose out of her mouth and gently touched it with her pointer finger, sweetly muttering, No' (nose). She gave Elmo a big hug, then she said, Biiite. Clamp! An unsuspecting Elmo gets it again, right on his monster snout.

I just hope her pointy, dinosaur, meat-tearing snagglers don't latch onto any of my parts.