Once again, it seems the warm summer air and my packed preschooler agenda has kept me from the computer. (Translation: My mom's been super busy and of course you know the first thing to go is the documentation of my precious and fleeting childhood.) So I've got a lot of recapping to do!
First and most importantly was a visit last week from my Nana Stelle and Papa Herb, who flew all the way here from Florida to see me and Rowan...and maybe a few other people, too. But mostly me and Rowan.
While it was so fun to see Nana Stelle and take her to our favorite haunts -- including the playground and the library -- it was even more fun to see Papa Herb because it is a fact that he always has lollipops in his pockets.
Sorry, Nana, but how do you compete with that??
During their visit, Rowan and I went to a barbecue with Papa Herb's family, where we challenged everyone to a game of Baggo. Pretty sure it was our non-regulation-style maneuvers that deterred the others from joining in.
Not to mention Rowan played dirty by standing right next to the hole, 'cause after all, who's gonna aim to win when there's an adorable baby standing right behind the target?
I'll give you a hint...somebody whose name starts with Me.
That same weekend I went to a birthday party that I will remember always. Partly because we got to pick up my friend Samantha at her house and drive her to the party in our car. Partly because there was ice cream with pick-your-own toppings. But mostly because the markers we used to decorate our crowns seem to have permanently dyed my forehead and hair a faint shade of pink. Even one-and-a-half weeks later.
Later in the week, we hit up that same new local kiddie hotspot to take advantage of all the different kinds of classes they offer. Because our calendar was clear, we did a double header. For me it was Art followed by Sports. For Rowan, it was Mom-and-Tot Music Appreciation followed by Mom-and-Tot Art.
While it sounded like the perfect morning in theory, Rowan's disdain for structured activities prevented her from appreciating the music. So while the other children clapped their hands, shook maracas and sang songs, Rowan climbed on boxes, demanded to have her hands washed and rifled through other people's diaper bags.
In art class, to avoid seeming like too much of a conformist, Rowan removed and replaced the Play-Doh in the cannisters, rather than mold it, and added onto other people's paintings, rather than start from scratch. But there was no screaming or otherwise disorderly conduct, and so we figure that's an official success in Rowan's book.
A couple days later, in an effort to maintain my status as Outstanding Big Sister, I told Rowan (for the first time) that I would help her get her shoes on. I didn't promise they'd be on the right feet. She just got lucky.
On Friday, when I was in school, Mom and Rowan attempted to do a little back-to-school shopping. While the first part of the trip -- the part that entailed sipping Jamba Juice and enjoying the fresh air -- went remarkably well, five formerly-folded piles of shirts and pants on the floor of the BabyGap said that back-to-school shopping isn't Rowan's
thing. Per se.
We closed out a week of many adventures with another birthday party -- my second pool party ever. And since I learned that the coolest party favors are the ones that are the hardest to get rid of (e.g., pink hair), I gave my dad an inadvertent punch in the eye while we were swimming.
Nothing says "a good time was had by all" like a black eye. But how can you hold a grudge against someone that looks like this when they sleep?
Seriously.
