The week in photos (and a short clip)

MONDAY

After Rowan's first tear-free day at school last Friday, we dropped her off on Monday morning with an overwhelming sense of hope and optimism. Two nearly non-stop hours of tears later, however, and Rowan earned herself an early pick-up and her first Jamba Juice (a Popi favorite).

After downing the first half of her drink, she flashed my mom a look as if to say that the emotional trauma inflicted upon her was certainly nothing that couldn't be repaired with a 16-ounce Mango A-Go-Go.

ALL 16 ounces.

TUESDAY

Mom and I considered good go-to words to express frustration when things don't go our way. While she claims to know a lot of words for this purpose, it took her a minute to come up with one that I'm allowed to use. We settled on "nuts!" Which is evidently a word that Rowan really enjoys hearing.

And this all works out, you see, because countless times during the day, things do not go my way. So at least one of us will be amused.

(My mom asks you to pardon the poor cinematography. She argues, however, that no one that's ever received recognition from The Academy for this sort of thing ever had to simultaneously hold the subject of their movie.)

WEDNESDAY

I dressed and accessorized myself for camp. Nothing says sandboxes and finger-painting like a tutu and a pair of gold shoes.

THURSDAY

Following a 48-hour period of pure vaccine-induced misery, Rowan decided shortly before finishing dinner that it was, in fact, time to retire for the evening.

What's up, Chuck?

To those of you who know me, this outfit -- a "Daddy Does my Hair!" t-shirt and a pair of tights so thin they are nearly undetectable by the human eye -- may seem a bit...er...out of character.

But don't knock it.

Because if you're out to dinner and all of the sudden find yourself revisited by everything you've eaten for the past few hours and your Nannie's forced to shop the aisles of Walgreen's for a little something to put on so you're not sitting sipping your pop naked in the restaurant for more than a couple minutes, you could find yourself wearing THE SAME THING.

And it probably wouldn't look half as good on you as it does on me.

Oh, snap!

LEGOS!

On Tuesday, my dad took me and Rowan to the LEGOLAND Discovery Center...or as I refer to it, Heaven.

Tables and tables of LEGOS!! A LEGO jungle! A LEGO factory! A LEGO movie theater! And rides! There were rides!

Not to mention my most favorite attraction of all: The Gift Shop. Where I talked my dad into buying the the LEGO "Toy Story 3" train set. The one with 584 pieces.

The one marked for ages 8-14.

Luckily my dad buys toys much in the same way I pick them out -- who cares if it's practical or age appropriate if it's REALLY AWESOME??

We had so much fun that both my dad and I got the Unlimited Platinum Passes, so we can go back and do it again whenever we want! They rudely refused to give my sister one because they said she's too little, so she snuck into the picture on my dad's pass. Hah! She showed them! Now all three of us are members of the club!

Further evidence that I had a REALLY good time? The fact that I am wearing this LEGOLAND crown.

Still.

Three days later.

Getting the boot (up)

My mom tells me that I am growing up in one of the very first tech-savvy generations of little kids.

I don't know how to tie my shoes or properly wipe my face, but I do know how to operate an iPhone camera, browse through an iPhone photo gallery, use a mouse, type on a keyboard and even send out a reply-to-all e-mail from a Blackberry. (Thank goodness I only sent that gibberish-filled e-mail to a bunch of ladies planning to go out to dinner with my mom!)

And so it seems fitting that I finally got a computer of my own last month. Okay, so maybe it's my dad's old cast off. But I'm not sweating the outdated hardware, what with my new PINK MOUSE and all.

Rowan was interested in getting in on the action, too, but I informed her as politely as I possibly could that I was "working."

Here I am earlier today dedicating some serious thought to my game of "Eat it or Wear it" on PinkyDinkyDoo.com.

Get a job!

A few weeks ago, before the official start of camp, I attended two weeks of pre-camp -- an offering for moms kids who just don't want to go three weeks without school. While I'm normally in a class of kids who come in the morning and leave right before lunch, not too many of my friends decided to join in the pre-camp festivities, and so I was in a different class.

A class of kids that, I discovered, get to stay at school ALL DAY LONG.

They eat lunch at school! They take naps at SCHOOL! Then they wake up and they're still AT SCHOOL!

This discovery prompted a discussion with my my mom about how some kids stay at school all day because their mommies go to work, and some kids stay at school just in the mornings because their mommies don't go to work.

I asked if I could go to school all day long.

We repeat the discussion about once a week because, hey, I'm three. It's my job to talk about everything ad nauseum, which is why I still discuss the episode nearly two years ago in which my Grandma and Popi's dog, Katie, stole a carrot from my tiny hand just as I was about to eat it.

Because we hadn't talked about it in a few days, I asked my mom yesterday on our way to school if she was going to work after she dropped us off. When she replied that she was not because she doesn't have a job that requires her to go to an office, I made the thoughtful suggestion that perhaps she should get one.

Better than a sharp stick in the eye (but not by much)

For the past few days, there's been a heat wave of sorts passing through our area.

Monday afternoon we passed the two to three loooong hours between naptime and dinnertime at the library.

Tuesday's weather was just bearable enough to hit the park, but only if you stood in the shade.

With the heat index over 100 degrees yesterday, we were kinda stuck. Until Mom figured out that heading to the pediatrician to get through the first half of Rowan's 18-month vaccinations would take up all of our free time before dinner. Score!

While we all miss our standing afternoon playdates in the park with our friends, nobody's praying for a break in this heat more sincerely than Rowan.

I'm pretty sure this is how Miley got her start

This morning, between waffles and pancakes and wardrobe selection, Rowan and I cut our first demo.

I know what you're thinking. Our recording equipment isn't what you'd call state-of-the-art. And maybe Rowan completely forgot the lyrics after "Q-R-S," but you have to appreciate the way I totally covered for her with some improv guitar and brought the song to a graceful close.

At the end of the day, what we've got is some raw undeniable talent. And you don't need fancy recording equipment or spot-on lyrics to appreciate that.

Here's another cut off our upcoming CD. The classic tune and whimsical wardrobe featured in the video really show off my softer side, while the black-and-purple Tinkerbell guitar, temporary spider tat and unbrushed hair say I'm a little bit rock-and-roll.

While we considered posting our duet on YouTube, between preschool, gymnastics, swimming lessons and naps, who's got time to go on TV to discuss our fast rise to fame from relative obscurity?

As I always say (usually in response to, "Who's ready to take a bath?" or "Who's ready to get in the car?"), "Not me!! Not Rowan!!"

@18 months

With a quiet week on the homefront, thought I would dedicate today's post to my sister Rowan. In recognition of the fact that she is now an 18-month-old kid!

Rowan passed her 18-month exam at the doctor's last week with flying colors, rocking the 95th percentile for weight and the 75th-90th percentile for height. The doctor was impressed that she is constantly singing her ABCs (half of which you can actually make out) and counting to 8.

But I argue that she has a number of other skills not discussed at the doctor's office which also qualify her as an outstanding 18-month-old. And so I assembled this brief video, which highlights:

1. Her continued obsession with Elmo
2. Her ability to turn mundane objects into accessories for dangerous stunts
3. The endearing way she says "I'm okay!" after failing to succeed at aforementioned dangerous stunt
4. Her love of redecorating the family room by constantly relocating the Elmo chair (perhaps a feng shui thing)
5. Her ability to ham it up for the camera, no matter what she is doing

And for all of these achievements, I say, Keep at it Rowan! You are growing up into a very excellent sidekick.

Happy 4th of July, m'ladies and gentlemen

This year, we once again celebrated the Fourth of July with a visit from my Grandma and Popi. While I'm always excited when they "sleep over," this visit was especially great because it was unwittingly thematic.

And the theme? Dragons and pirates. Juuuust right for a kid recently obsessed with sword fighting.

Day One: We started out the visit with a trip to Pirates' Cove, where I rode down the back of Misty, the Smoke Breathing Dragon. Between boarding a pirate ship, riding a train through treasure-filled passages and captaining my own paddle boat, I got to see real pirates do the Chicken Dance on the lawn stage.





Day Two: Popi and I trekked to the park for the inaugural flight of our dragon glider. Sadly, our dragon was more of a nosediver than a glider. And while I did throw myself to the ground numerous times to express my discontent over the fact that the dragon wouldn't fly, I still managed to have a great time.





Day Three: We visited the local carnival, where I fearlessly rode in a car, a motorcycle and even the kiddie roller coaster. The haunted pirate ride, while lacking speed and adventure, was certainly dark. And although my dad said it was lame, I argue that it was, in fact, "scary."



The only thing scarier? The after-effects of delaying my naptime by a couple of hours in order to cram in more carnival rides.

Despite a meltdown that rivaled our village's annual fireworks display from the standpoint of both noise and spectacle, I pulled myself together to go to my friend's/neighbor's house for a barbecue.

After all, Grandma and I made cupcakes!


Day Four: Shortly after Grandma and Popi left, I announced that I would be performing in a pirate play and requested that Rowan sit on the family room rug to watch. I promptly cancelled the show upon learning that a) Rowan was not interested in being a patron of the arts and b) standing on the hearth is prohibited even to thespians.

I am quite certain that the Chicken-Dancing pirates never had to put up with this nonsense.