Birthday Palooza

A couple of weeks ago we had birthday party weekend.  We had two birthday parties on Saturday and just to make things more interesting they were *boy* birthday parties. 

 The first one was a Superman party.  And I think it's safe to say that my girls had NO idea who superman was and why he might be so incredibly cool.  Pretty sure they still don't know.  However, Superman did show up to that party and the kids were pretty impressed... even though both of them were  clinging to one of my legs.  I did however talk Gwendo into collecting one of the temporary tattoos that Superman was offering up so that she could give it to the birthday boy at the next party, because after all, obviously it's a boy thing.  Tula got pretty into it.  Gwen was the oldest kid there and seemed a little conflicted between trying to hang with the grown ups and lamenting that the dress up clothes probably didn't fit her.  At some point Super-T ran through the living room dressed up as some super hero or villain who's name I don't know and I almost didn't know it was her.  I chased her down and got this picture of her with her pals.  Party number one was pretty cool. They had pizza and lattes and beer... oh right, and juice boxes.  It was awesome.

The second party was for Kyler.  He was turning 6 and had a Star Wars party.  We knew this party was coming and the girls had never been introduced to Star Wars.  All they knew was they love Kyler and if it's good enough for him, they're in.  We opted to let them watch episode 4 the night before the party and they were sold.  Gwen wore her most Leia like shirt and had buns in most of the day.  Besides that he had a friggin' bouncy house!  If Star Wars parties come with a bouncy house, guess who wants a Star Wars party?  Matt My kids.  We had a great time.  Gwen gave Kyler the Super Man tattoo she saved for him and he traded her a Storm Trooper tattoo.  She put it on her shoulder and then refused to wash her shoulder for days...  Great fun.  

We did absolutely NOTHING on Sunday.

Trying to keep up...

The other day, I had to break up an argument between Gwen and Tula.  Tula was in tears.  I had to turn down the blaring Taylor Swift CD in order to hear what the problem was.  As it turned out, Tula was pissed because Gwen had turned the music down.  And by "down" I mean it went from 'Rock Concert-ear plugs required' to 'What did you say? I couldn't hear you over this obscenely loud music'.

The girl is all about the "Dance Party" right now.  She had her pal Eamon over for a playdate a few weeks back.  He was playing cars on the floor and she was trying her hardest to distract him into dancing with her.  "Hey Eamon, check out my dance moves.  Hey Eamon, can you do this one?"  And Eamon tried to distract her right back with the cars, "Tula, this one's awesome." No luck.  She just kept dancing.  Someday we will remind him that he wouldn't dance with her...

Yesterday, we were in the car in the pouring rain, rocking out to some Aretha Franklin when she shouted from her carseat "I love snow cones! Especially the cherry ones!"  These are the parenting moments that no one tells you about... How exactly does one respond on a rainy 40 degree day to a blanket statement about the love of snow cones?  What's better is that she didn't even want a response.  I responded with "Oh, yeah?" and she was happily onto the next thought.
Today, she came home from school with her President's Day pre-school project.  "If I was President, I would... Have water balloons."  Of course she would.  Or rather, of course she will.

Gross

Most of the time kids are wonderful.  They're silly and cute and sometimes completely inappropriate.  And really really fun...  The house was all a buzz when I got home from work on my birthday.  I was greeted at the door by Gwen.  Showing me, with palpable excitement that she could push her tooth completely perpendicular to her gums.  GROSS!  Seriously, disgusting.  She waited for me to get home from work so that she could have me in the audience when she pulled out her very first tooth.  Gross.  Even though I was cringing and making faces, I was excited for her.  It really is a big deal.  What a big kid.  And lucky for her, the tooth fairy didn't mind her outburst from a few weeks ago...

Nostalgia

Nostalgia.  Is it odd to long to know a history that isn't your own?  To wonder about a life that led to your own but only indirectly impacted this life?  My grandfather died before my birth and I've always felt cheated by it.  I've been acutely aware all of my life, that I was the only grandchild that he never met.  I form a memory of him through stories and memories others have lent me, but I still wonder what he sounded like... what he would have told me, only me.

Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that the passing of a great woman, a woman my grandfather held in the highest regards, has rattled me a bit.  I've read letters that my mother has of their correspondence during WWII.  She was his sister-in-law, and apparently she was wonderful.  I know little more of her than the couple times I met her in person, and the warm letters she would send me every year after her receipt of our christmas card.  My cousin found this article in the local newspaper that she wrote a couple years ago about her war time contribution.  Reading it makes me proud.  What an amazing and painful time to live through.  What amazing things she watched happen to and around the world.

Not surprisingly, her death makes me reflect on my own life.  What would an article about my "war time contribution" look like?  Does any correspondence with my brother-in-law during his time in the desert even still exist?  In this time of instant communication, will anything tangible even exist to prove history? My history?

All the same, it is with a heavy heart that I bid Aunt Barb adieu.  And congratulations on a life well lived.

The End of the Snow

Finally, today, I think the snow is almost gone.  More than a week with snow on the ground is totally crazy around here.  In fact, I don't remember this happening here... like ever, in my life.  To say we were suffering from a bit of cabin fever would be a gross understatement.  I was just the lucky one who got to go off to work four of those days.  The snow itself wasn't that bad at all.  Our problems came with the ice.
The morning that the snow was deepest and best, it was sleeting by the time the girls were dressed to go play in it.  They couldn't manage the walk to the University campus to sled, so Matt piled the snow on our back patio stairs and the girls took turns sledding down the stairs.  Our almost 10 inches of snow became topped with a half inch of solid ice over the course of that day.  Our house became encrusted with half an inch of solid ice.  I had to shovel a trail into the yard for the dog because the icy crust was up to his belly.  I walked to work wednesday in silent peace, in 10 inches of snow, but by the time my shift was over it was a crusty mess.  On friday when I walked to work the sidewalks were littered with broken trees and shards of ice as sharp and treacherous as broken glass.  I walked down the middle of the road to avoid the overhanging trees laden with ice.  I listened to the trees crack the whole way to work.  There is one block on my route where the trees are so big that their branches become intertwined high above the middle of the street.  As I approached that block, littered with big black branches, I could hear the ice falling out of the trees.  It sounded like it was raining marbles.  I ran up that block, not like a giant chunk of ice wouldn't hurt me if I was running... I was just banking on the fact that 15 seconds of potentially being blitzed with ice was better than 2 min of pelting.  However, the relief that I felt when I saw my building ahead of me was briefly halted when I also saw security vehicles and about 10 guys from our security, grounds crew, and engineering departments outside of the door I usually enter, and the whole area taped off.  It seems, giant slabs of ice were falling off of the building.  And sure enough, as I stood there talking to the security guard a slab of ice about 2 feet long fell off of the building and down to the street.  Yikes.  I'm feeling not so bitchy about the rain these days.  All in all, we were quite lucky, we never lost power and other than a couple of trees in our front yard that look like they were pruned by a toddler, we didn't have any major landscaping failures.

What's your excuse?

Overheard this week in this crazy house:

1.     Me: "Tula, do you have to go to the bathroom?"

        Tula: "No! I'm tap dancing!"

2.     Me: "Tula, do you have to go to the bathroom?"
        Tula: "No. I'm just silly walking."

3.     Me: "Tula, do you have to go to the bathroom?"
        Tula: "No. I'm just wiggly."

4.     Me: "Tula, do you have to go to the bathroom?"
        Tula: "No. My toe just itches."

And it's only Tuesday...

Quoth the Raven...

We were out for a walk in the snow today and came upon this bossy little crow, yelling at us from his perch. I find crows generally a little creepy, I'll blame Poe for that, and a high school English teacher that was a bit too into Poe.  But, after chasing my kids around with the camera for days now with no great pictures to show for it, I thought it was funny that this silly crow was demanding to be shown off.