Happy birthday to you

Today is Xana's birthday. And while I have not mentioned her on my blog since she took her trip to Heaven in December, it's not for lack of thinking about her. In fact, I still talk about her almost every week.

Sometimes I bring her up when I see other dogs or when there's a conversation about pets, but mostly I mention her in the car while I am looking up at the sky. A few weeks ago, I declared that it was cloudy, so I couldn't see Xana up in Heaven. Most often I ask my mom why Xana can't come back to see us now that Heaven has fixed her boo-boos.

She has no good answer for that one.

In honor of her birthday, I am sharing this video from the party we threw for her last year, which I never got around to posting.

Happy birthday to you, Xana!! We miss you so. :(

Pumpkin patch job

For the past thirteen months, I have been replaying in my head the details of my very first trip to Didier Farms, a local hot spot for pumpkin-related action. And as we've driven past the empty field during winter, spring and summer, I have secretly been fantasizing about how I would return this fall to once again find myself completely alone in a pumpkin patch full of amusement-park rides.

So the good news is, today I was once again THE ONLY KID at the pumpkin patch. (Not including Rowan, who's not so much a "kid" as a sidekick or accessory.) So the bad news is that it had a bit to do with the headline on CNN.com, "Huge storm rips Midwest, barrels east."

Turns out that when winds exceed 70 mph, people aren't so inclined to stand around operating ferris wheels.

But we weren't about to let a little bit of weather get in the way of a trip we had been planning for weeks. Halloween was less than a week away, my dad had scheduled the afternoon off of work, and dagnabbit, we were GOING to that pumpkin patch even if there was nothing for us to do but...you know...pick pumpkins.

Which is what we did. In between brushing our hair out of our ears, eyes and mouths and attempting to avoid becoming airborne. It was AWESOME.


By the time we piled back into the car about 20 minutes later, two pumpkins richer and sporting some extremely voluminous hair, we felt fulfilled enough to go on our way without any whining or tears about the carnival rides that weren't to be.

Looks like the long wait for Halloween hasn't been a total bust after all. But perhaps next year we can celebrate this joyous holiday sans the kind of weather that could drop a house on a witch.

2009

2010

DUPED! The moment Rowan realized the pumpkin patch was all cardboard and mirrors.

Here we are in the gift shop checking out a mechanical skeleton that kept peeking out from behind a door. We weren't sure whether to laugh or cry, so we opted for a look that implies both intrigue and terror.

And this is why I laughed when the lady at the checkout asked if we wanted to borrow a wagon to get our pumpkins out to the car.

Polished

Last Saturday, upon realizing that we both had openings on our social calendar, Nannie and I decided to hit the spa for my first manicure.

So while I've recently discovered that you can be too old for Pampers, you apparently can never be too young to be pampered.

Classy

Rowan believes in dressing to impress, regardless of the importance of the occasion -- or lack thereof.

For instance, last night before having a seat on the potty, Rowan made a stop at the dress-up bin to put on the top half of a 2-piece ball gown set, two metallic beaded necklaces and a satin princess handbag. In full royal garb, including the handbag resting perfectly in the crook of her arm, she sat down on the royal potty and did her thing.

Although it didn't for me, the gimmick behind the royal musical potty works for Rowan. She TOTALLY buys what that potty is selling and eagerly generates even the smallest amount of pee for a few bars of electronic fanfare. Last week, she even managed to save a little pee to go back literally two minutes later for an encore.

I know what you're thinking: Isn't Rowan a little LITTLE to be peeing on the potty? Didn't YOU just finish potty training?

And my response would be that my sister is an overachieving show-off. I just keep her around because she'll eat my vegetables.

At any rate, back to the subject of my post -- Rowan's propensity for turning every-day events into a fashion show. Following the black-tie optional trip to the potty, Rowan changed into her pajamas (unfortunately, her pajama collection is all very business casual) but added a touch of class to teeth brushing by wearing her handbag.

While my mom did not have the camera handy for the big potty event last night (and even if she did, she took a silent-yet-serious oath to never post pictures of her kids on the potty...EVER), she managed to capture a picture post-potty (unfortunately after Rowan shed some of her fine jewelry). And I'm throwing in a couple pictures of the teeth brushing, just so you might appreciate how classy bedtime can be in our neck of the woods.

WONDERful

My Nannie and a very fabulous catalog have a mutual admiration for each other. They like those blankets she sells, and she likes pretty much everything they sell. So when their Halloween catalog came out, she quickly secured two copies (one for me to read, and one for Rowan to "read") and brought them over for our review.

After a quick peruse, I decided (VERY firmly) on this:


A costume that my mom deemed problematic for two reasons:

1. It is clearly, she informed me, a Christmas costume. I was not aware that there were two holidays requiring costumes, so this was both good and bad news.

2. We live in Chicago, meaning that the weather on Halloween will either be frigid or tropical, depending on what is most inconvenient for the costume you've selected.

And so I was forced to look back through the catalog to come up with Plan B, which looked like this:


This was excellent news not only for the fact that it was a little more holiday-appropriate, but also because it fulfilled one of my dad's lifelong dreams for his kids: that they be interested in DC.

And I don't mean politics. I mean the comic books.

See, my dad grew up enjoying and collecting comic books, movies and books about superheroes. And the opportunity to share this interest with one of his children is equivalent, he believes, to the pride he will feel when I open my acceptance letter to Harvard.

On Thursday, after an evening of running around the house in my new costume, wearing my Lasso of Truth (which conveniently doubles as a jump rope for those times when I am not bringing the Amazon ideals of love, peace, and gender equality to a world torn by the hatred of men), my dad gave me a Wonder Woman book! I have been sleeping with it every night since.

And so we all came out winners. I have a new-found obsession. And it's like Christmas has come early for my dad.

If only I had the proper costume to celebrate.

Ponies: An update

I have officially re-evaluated my position on ponies.

Both physically and philosophically.

GEOBBERTS PUMPKIN PATCH 2008

Not sure who looks more disappointed in this picture, Papa or the pony.

GEOBBERTS PUMPKIN PATCH 2010