Sing it, sister

I come from a very musically-oriented family.

My grandma is a really good singer and guitar player. My mom studied music in college. And my dad really wishes he could sing.

Whether we're in the midst of a diaper change, bath time or a car ride to school, chances are good that we're singing something. And though we've all got years of experience on her, Rowan really holds her own in the singing department.

Given the fact that she's only two, it's hard to say what direction she'll head in professionally, but all signs are pointing to a career of pop music stardom.

1. She flubs the lyrics, just like Christina Aguilera!

Transcript
Sesame street, everything's a-ok
Sunny day, the air is sweet
[indiscernible]
[indiscernible]
[indiscernible]

Puff the Dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in Honalee
Together they would travel
On a boat with billowed sail
Jackie no longer went to play
Along the Cherry Lane
Cheeese!

2. She remains true to herself as an artist. If she's not feelin' it, she ain't singin' it.

Transcript
La, la
Elmo's World
Wah-wah-wah
La, la
Elmo's World!
Wah-wah-wah
Elmo loves goldfish
Crayons, too
That's Elmo's World
Doo-doo-doo

3. She's already adept at using aliases in order maintain her privacy. I mean, if Justin Bieber can check into hotels as "Chandler Bing," why can't Rowan be "Monkey?"

I've got the magic

On Saturday I saw a magic show at my friend's birthday party. It was only the second magic show I've ever attended, and while I enjoyed them both, this magician sent me home with some magic tricks of my own to try.

And though they were a little hard to get the hang of, it triggered The Obsession of the Week. I am determined to be a great magician.

My dad, who believes I am the Tiger Woods of everything (skateboarding, guitar playing, scooter riding -- you name it), quickly found the closest magic shop and took me the very next day.

While I think it's going to be a while before my mom lets me work with real animal props, I'm pretty smooth with the dice.

And though Rowan's trying hard not to steal the spotlight -- not an easy task when you are The World's Cutest Magician's Assistant -- I suppose it's hard not to be taken by a 2-year-old who walks up to you and says, "Pick a card."

Carb lover

Yesterday, angel hair pasta was on the menu for lunch. And while my mom knew that both Rowan and I are fans, she didn't realize just how big a fan Rowan was til we ran out.

"Mah, peeeese," she said.

But when our angel-hair supply couldn't support a fourth helping, my mom had to inform her that there was no more.

She sat there thoughtfully before asking again.

"Mah sketti, peeeeese."

My mom told her once again that we were completely out. She cried a bit.

Then she calmed down, stood up, walked her empty bowl over to my dad and said, "Mah, peeeeeese."

But when Dad -- our go-to guy who always delivers -- informed her that we really were completely out of sketti, a level of devastation never witnessed before in our house ensued.

Loud wails.

Gigantic alligator tears.

My mom says that she herself cried kinda like that once about pasta. But she's pretty sure she was on South Beach at the time.

Half baked

Last week, we headed over to my friend Rylie's house for a Saturday afternoon playdate. With Valentine's Day right around the corner, Rylie's mom gave us cookie dough and cookie cutters and we made heart-shaped cookies to frost and eat.

And as Rylie's mom opened the oven door and the delicious smell of fresh-baked cookies filled the house, I suddenly realized why my mom and Rylie's mom are such good friends.

Neither one of them is really very good with ovens.


Luckily it was nothing a lot of frosting couldn't cover up.

Lesson learned

Over the course of my career as a small kid, I have taken rigorous notes about the shopping process, and what it all boils down to is this: If you find something that you want or need, you just give people some money or your credit card, and then they let you take it.

So when I happened upon a lady with beautiful purple roses outside the restaurant on Monday night, I was hoping my dad would fork over some coin so I could have one.

But the thing is, the lady didn't want money. In fact, all she wanted was a phone number.

And I'm thinking, a phone number?? My dad's got like 200 right here in his phone! I'll take an entire bouquet, please.

And while my dad and I settled on just one, we later learned from my mom that it is, in fact, rude to give away your Nannie's phone number to the Mary Kay lady in order to get a flower for free.

Note to self.

Luckily I recorded this adorable message for my Nannie immediately afterwards, which I'm pretty sure sells this little incident as a real win for her, too. After all, I heard their new colors just came out for spring.

Happy Valentine's Day, Nannie. :)

Project Flying Onion: A no go

Date with Dad

My dad loves teppanyaki-style restuarants. And my dad loves me (slightly more than teppanyaki-style restaurants). So it seemed only fitting that on Happy Valentine's Day (as I call it) -- the day of love -- I was his very special date to Tsukasa.

I loved watching the chef cook on the grill right in front of me, but did not care for the part where he set the grill on fire (allegedly on purpose). And while my dad set up the camera to capture my reaction upon seeing the great blaze, the fact that my chair was empty before he could hit the shutter release basically sums up my thoughts on the whole experience.

I found much more enjoyment in the part where the chef attempted to fling broccoli into everybody's mouths. And while I convinced him to try the stunt with some grilled onion (broccoli's not my thing), turns out the fling factor's much different. It was a failure, but dinner overall was a SUCCESS!

(I took this photo myself, which I think is why the chef made this extra-special pose.)

While it could be argued that Rowan would have enjoyed Tsukasa also, she was delighted to enjoy a quiet meal at home with complete control over the television programming. Every turn to pick was hers! She spent over an hour eating and selecting different shows to watch, in quiet appreciation of my absence.

And before she called it a night, quietly enjoying a book and a few bedtime songs without the ruckus of someone exuberantly brushing her teeth in the bathroom or running through the hall, she relayed her best wishes on this Happy Valentine's Day to everybody she loves via my mom's video camera.

Rowan: The recap

Well, Rowan, despite the fact that you opted not to walk for a considerable part of your 1-year-old career, Mom still managed to put together a video for you that looks fairly action-packed.

You heard wrong

It is unfortunate that the names Bubble Guppies and Black Eye Peas sound so similar when you say them out loud. But it does offer some insight into why Rowan was confused to see Will.I.Am, et. al., descend upon Cowboys Stadium on Sunday.

She took a look at their light-up outfits and the plastic hair helmet, then turned to my mom and asked where the Bubble Guppies were.

Sorry, NFL, but you'll have to add one more to your tally of highly disappointed Super Bowl halftime show viewers.

Time

Today it was finally time for my mom's friend Auntie Kelly to have her baby. His name is Baby Daniel, and upon hearing of his arrival, I announced (again) that we would be best friends.

"I'm going to hold his hand," I said, "but he's a baby. So if he doesn't want to hold my hand, that's OH-KAY."

But aside from delivering to me a new best friend, my mom says Baby Daniel's arrival delivered to her a startling reminder of how quickly the time goes. Because she's certain that I couldn't have been born more than a year ago.

Two max.

Which is why she stayed up til 1 am this morning finishing the video highlighting all the fun experiences and special moments I had in 2010. Because if time's gonna keep flying like this, she thinks we better keep some really good records if we're gonna remember a thing!

And let that be a lesson to you

My mom said that whoever came up with the saying, "Try it. You're gonna like it," never had a kid with a gag reflex like mine.

I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I'm pretty sure next time my teacher will think twice before encouraging me to try the chicken at lunch.

The Sky's the Lemon

Despite the fact that she declares it "scary" every time we watch it, Rowan makes repeated requests for the movie "The Sky's the Lemon." Only she can't pronounce the word lemon, so when she says it, it sounds just like "The Sky's the Weapon."

Doesn't it just make you chuckle when little kids mispronounce things?

Scary

Some kids are obsessed with watching TV. In our house, though, we're mostly just obsessed with picking what we watch on TV.

Every time we sit down for a meal, I inquire about whose turn it is to pick. Sometimes I accept the answer (especially if it's my turn), and other times Rowan and I get into a screaming match.

"It's my turn to pick!"

"Iss MAH terr pick!!"

"No, it's MY turn to pick."

Etc., etc.

But recently Rowan accidentally stumbled upon a picking loophole. Because if whatever's been picked happens to be scary (e.g., contains scenes depicting nighttime or scenes where characters appear to be in peril), Rowan declares, "Iss scay-ee," and it gets changed.

And because we are masters of manipulation, it wasn't long before both of us were pulling The Scary Card every time we didn't like the current selection. It's an ingenius technique for making the things we don't want go away.

Mom realized it had all finally gone too far last Monday when a little boy got on the trampoline with Rowan at gymnastics. Preferring to jump alone, she looked at the little boy and said, "Scay-ee."

Turns out the technique has limited applications.

And two years later, my dad finally forgave my mom...

...for buying a snowblower (when he was at work) large enough to clear a commercial lot.

The Blizzard of 2011

Beauty's in the eye of the bearholder

There is no shortage of stuffed animals and dolls in our house. They peek out at you from toy chests, closets and bins in almost every room.

And while we have beautiful dolls with exquisite wig-grade hair; animals that talk, dance, sing or spell; and luxuriously soft stuffed animals that have been touched maybe once or twice, Rowan's been infatuated with our latest acquisition:

The bear with a crooked nose, uneven eyes and an awkward seam down the middle of his face.

That my dad won from a skill crane.

Everyday luxuries

Above the stove in our kitchen, there are two glass cabinets filled with beautiful silver dishes.

Dragonfly dishes!

Although I'd like to eat on them because I LOVE dragonflies, my mom says we can't because they're from China.

The boxes those dishes came in say you can put them in the dishwasher, but the lady who gave my mom those boxes at the store said, "No way!" But my mom decided when she picked them out that she would use them every day, put them in the dishwasher and hope for the best.

After all, what's the point of having something great if you hardly ever enjoy it?

But my mom and dad got those dishes almost six years ago and they've only been out of the cabinets one time. Turns out when you have something very special (see "very expensive"), you worry that something's going to happen to it, and so you try not to use it too much.

Which is why my mom had to think long and hard about what to do when my Nannie bought me this hat in the fall:

Aside from the fact that I've declared it "the greatest hat I've never seen before," it cost about 3-4 times more than your average kiddie hat (depending on how fancy you like your hats).

And because my mom insists that kiddie hats and gloves disappear more often and more mysteriously than socks in the dryer, she thought carefully about when and where it would be appropriate to wear The Greatest Hat Ever in order to ensure its safety.

Vowing to finally follow through on the philosophy of finding everyday enjoyment in our most special things, she decided that I could wear the hat everywhere.

To school. To the park. Even under my dad's supervision.

And despite the fact we panic on almost a weekly basis when the hat goes missing -- secretly pointing the finger of blame at innocent parties, like my school teachers or my dad -- the hat always has a way of turning up.

And so I'm pretty sure there's a lesson to be learned here.

Perhaps one best discussed over a meal served on dragonfly plates.