Spooky

Celebrating Alice

On Alice's birthday morning, she woke up to find her dream come true waiting on the couch: a giant stuffed dolphin.

Michael had decorated late the night before after another long day of unpacking (I surely can't take credit for that crepe paper awesomeness).
She's really into dolphins right now.
Great-Grandma came with some craft sets . . . Alice is also really into crafting right now, much to the chagrin of my glitter-saturated super-shag carpet. We also had the extended family over for cake and ice cream. Things were especially low key because of the move.
Let's just say that I did my best under the circumstances. My cake-making gear was packed in a box somewhere in the garage. Michael printed these dolphins at the last minute so the cake was at least a little interesting.
Happy birthday Al! You are the sweetest, smartest, loveliest most helpful and darling seven year old girl. Our family would never be complete without you. My only complaint is that you are growing up much too quickly.
I took Alice and a little girl from the new neighborhood (the only one her age that she had met so far) to the beauty school for a birthday manicure and pedicure.

I may have gotten glitter toes done while I was waiting for them . . . I'm not too old for glitter toes, am I?

Don't answer that.

She's Seven

Photos by Sunshine Soul Photography





And I thank heaven every day that she's ours!

Tooth Fairy, Not Santa

A friend from school told Alice that at her house she could write a note to the Tooth Fairy and the fairy would bring her what she asked for.

Alice decided to try it for herself.

Card front:
Card interior (click to enlarge):
The Tooth Fairy replied:

Thank you Tooth Fairy, for not setting unmanageable precedents.

The fact is, she's lost so many teeth lately that she should be able to buy a stuffed dolphin for herself.

34 Weeks

I'm still here. According to the doc, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Being comfortable is a distant memory, but at this point the girls are still better off in than out. And that is all I have to say about that. Because if you can't say something nice . . . .

Alice's quote of the week pretty much sums it up:

"Mom! You are so slow you move like a tortoise!" Then she looked at me sideways with her eyes a little squinty, and said, "Actually, you kind of look like one too."

Thanks sis.

All She Wants For Christmas . . .

Animal Activist

For Alice's birthday, Michael's parents got her a butterfly pavilion where she could raise caterpillars into painted ladies. Michael helped her order the caterpillars online, but by the time they shipped, spent a week as caterpillars and another week in their chrysalids, it was time for us to go on our camping trip.

We didn't get to see them emerge from the chrysalids, but when we returned from Olympic, here is what we found:
We were going to have a big party and invite Alice's friends over to watch her release them after we'd kept them for a while, but after about a week, one morning we woke up and three of them were dead. So Al panicked and ran the pavilion outside, opened it and stood there yelling motivational things like "Emerge! Escape! Fly free before you DIE!" to the remaining seven butterflies.

They heeded her warnings and flew off to bigger things.

Six

African Savannah cake . . . as she requested. "Mom, I want something that looks like dirt. With a cheetah on it. And some water for him to drink. Pretty much just a cake that looks like a good habitat for cheetahs."
The loot. We also took her on a birthday outing to Build a Bear where she built a . . . (drumroll . . . suspenseful pause) . . . leopard. But only because they didn't have any cheetahs.
A terrible picture, I know. Blame me. It does, however, document the first teeny tiny cake that she made with her very own two little hands . . . out of a packet, mixed with a teaspoon of water and cooked over a lightbulb. I told her she's practically Julia Child (and then I had to explain who Julia Child was). She sliced her creation into nibbles and shared a bite with everyone in the neighborhood.
We still love this kid as much as we possibly can. She has grown up so much this year, losing two teeth and growing in two new ones, learning to ride a bike with no training wheels, receiving glowing reports from her kindergarten teacher, enjoying gymnastics, swimming and soccer, and reading every book in the library about wild carnivorous cats multiple times.

We'll keep her!

Gifted

Van Gogh did it too.
The subject:
The artiste:

(This was shortly after her kindergarten teacher informed me that it would be great for me to research extra-curricular activities that would "challenge" her)
Crayola doesn't tell you on the box that it takes a lot more work to get the "washable" blue marker off skin. He had a deathly pallor for a couple of days because of it.

Sure, I laughed . . . but don't think they both didn't get an earful from me.

Happenings

Pinewood Derby. Not a winner . . . not a care.
His car was voted "Most Rocket-like."
Alice's performance day at her dance/tumbling class.
Pretty great, but she saves her best performances for our living room.

Battle Wound

Last week our lawn was a carpet of red and yellow leaves. Alice, Seth and the neighborhood kids made a grand after school plan to use brooms and sweep them all into a pile as big as the house.

Here is an important formula for you all to remember:

LITTLE BOY (Seth) + A BROOM =

(picture taken right before Michael removed the stitches-you'll thank me for not showing how she looked a few days before)

When she first ran up to show me I thought it was just a bump, so I wasn't very sympathetic. After she took her hand off of her face I realized I had never seen so much blood coming out of one of my children in my life. In Seth's defense, he had no idea she was standing behind him. It was a complete accident.

The good news is, we have an extremely useful connection at the hospital.

Back in the Saddle Again

The kiddos have to get all that running out before they are in the building.
Kindergarten!
Ali rides home on the kindergarten bus at lunch . . . she's the last one off doesn't mind the long ride at all!

Thinks I've Been Thinking

I made a career (albeit a short one, but a career nonetheless) out of teaching children how to read. After all the times I've seen it, it still never ceases to amaze me how magical it is once a child finally figures reading out. All of a sudden, they just know how to string the sounds together to make words and new worlds open up because of it. And even though I've seen one of my children learn to read before, I'm just as excited for Alice . . . because it has suddenly clicked. Today she can read. Last week she couldn't (if you don't count phonics readers). Isn't it amazing?

Next week Michael and I will have been married ten years. And that has me thinking another think . . . Isn't it funny how ten years can feel like such a long time and such a short time also? As I've aged perspective must have aged with me. $10,000 doesn't seem like nearly as much money as it used to. $100,000 seems to have diminished in value as well. A week doesn't feel like very long to wait for something big (a birthday or a holiday) anymore, and every year when school starts I find myself asking where the summer has gone. I remember hearing adults talk about time and money this way when I was a child, and thinking they were nuts. Even if we are nuts, I wouldn't trade these ten years or make them move any faster or slower. They have been perfect. Though an extra $10,000 wouldn't kill me.

We finally relented to the children's incessant pleas for a pet and added a betta fish to our family. They seem happy with it, even though it is not a dog. The fish naming process was interesting to overhear. First he was named Fish. Then Silver. Then Lightning. Then Seth wanted Laser Head and Alice wanted Happy Fish, so they compromised with Happy Laser Fish, which was his name for all of a day. Michael kept plugging the name Eric but since the kids have (thankfully) never seen Monty Python, the humor of a pet fish named Eric is lost on them. Finally, one morning the two kids came to breakfast with a consensus. The fish is named Redhead. Thomas still calls him Silver. And Redhead, in his quiet fishy way, calls Thomas The Harbinger of Fishy Doom and Destruction that will Probably be my Death.

I suppose we'll have to wait to see how long that little boy will actually keep his paws out of the fishbowl.

Vogue at the Rose Garden

I'm going to catch up on summer. I really am. There will be pictures and stories galore. See? Here are some now. This is from our visit to the Portland International Rose Garden.

Something happens to Alice when we take her picture. She poses.
I don't know where this is coming from. Hands on waist, one hip jutted out, chin down . . .
Look! There it is again! Somebody stole my little girl and replaced her with a runway model! Help!
At least she looks like she might want to be photographed. We can hardly keep Thomas in the frame . . . and Seth is just anxious for us to give him the okay so he can bolt.
Wait a minute . . . that pose looks familiar . . . Brianna? She got it from you? There are divas in the family.
Well. I certainly didn't teach her to do it.
Although I did strike some interesting poses when Thomas wanted to smell the roses from atop my shoulders.
I never said that I could aim him very well while he was up there though. Sorry kid.

Five

I know I haven't been very bloggy lately. We had a fabu Utah adventure that will be recorded shortly . . . but first things first.

Alice turned five.

We had a small party the on what was supposed to have been the day before our exodus to Utah. (Dora's transmission had to be rebuilt which muddled our plans a little).
My sister Brianna helped with the face painting, cupcake decorating, supply buying and general crowd control. Check out her hair. It is generally considered to be the among the greatest heads of hair in America.
Activities included a pinata manned by Dr. Dad (he had to go right back to work after, hence the blue pajamas) and pin-the-dot on the ladybug.
This picture illustrates why boys do not belong at birthday parties for little girls. Each little girl daintily put on the blindfold, tip-toed over to the lady bug and carefully placed the dot on it's back.

Seth put on the blind fold and staggered around with his arms out moaning "Beware the undead . . . I am a zombie . . . take me to your leader."

One of the perks of having a birthday at the park is that the small guests can all run amok and I can talk to grown-ups while they do it. And we all know that talking to grown-ups is pretty much one of my favorite pass times ever.

And for my Alice, I just love her little five-year-old self. She is the perfect combination of spunk and girl. Her Betty Rubble giggle can make my day.

And I think you'll agree, that if Brianna gets the crown for best grown-up hair ever, Alice's baby hair would have taken the prize as well. Just check these out:

She's just growing up too quickly, as is evidenced by the fact that the only things she asked for for her birthday were a pink rug for her room and a tube of lip gloss. Sigh.