Getting the scoop

Yesterday my mom picked us up early from school for our ice cream date with Miss Linda, who runs the front desk at our school -- another of our big wins from the school raffle.

After carefully considering our options, I chose the dark chocolate and Rowan went with cotton candy. I don't even think that Rowan knows what cotton candy is, but it was an electric shade of blue and her tights were a pristine shade of white, so she was like, "Sold!"

We had plans to meet our friends at the park immediately afterwards, but we arrived a little later than anticipated because we had to go home and put our clothes right in the washing machine.

My mom says that being too filthy to go to the park is a sure sign that a good time was had by all.

Tax(idermy) season

On Sunday, we went to a store for outdoorsmen -- people who like to play outside. My dad needed to do some shopping and they had some very cool fish tanks, so my mom brought the camera along.

In addition to the GIGANTIC fish, there were LOTS of stuffed animals. My mom says to tell you that they were not the kind stuffed with fluff.

While my mom dutifully brings the camera on most of our excursions so that I might one day recall my childhood with remarkable detail (and, of course, great fondness), we had to scrap most of the photos in the end.

All those animals made my mom feel sad.

We did make one exception, because sometimes you make a ridiculously cute pose in front of something that is ridiculous. And so we ask you to kindly disregard the moose head.

I took this picture! My mom photoshopped it, by which I mean she cropped out the gigantic elephant in the background. We like our animals ALIVE!

Got no sole

Since a young age, Rowan's been a bit of a tough customer in the shoe department. It started with an enjoyment of feeling the wind in between her toes while swinging at the park -- the colder the weather, the better.

Kicking off her shoes became both a hobby and a source of great amusement (mainly just for herself).

A few months later Rowan capitalized on her shoe-kicking abilities as a means of expressing her emotions. If she was angry, upset or frustrated, she'd sit on the floor and the shoes would come flying off, accompanied by an unspoken challenge to just TRY and get them back on.

Her feet are chunky and her body and will are strong. Not a task for the weak.

As she's gotten older, Rowan's thankfully and slowly been outgrowing her shoe-flinging tendencies. But in order to hang on to her notoriety for being adorably difficult in the footwear department, she recently decided that insoles just aren't for her.

They're in. They're out. They're missing. They're found. They're in. They're out.

It's a constant battle to get Rowan out the door with her shoes in tact, but my mom's been enjoying the quiet satisfaction of always winning in the end.

Mom: 15. Rowan: 0.

And then last week, Mom was laughingly sharing this latest stunt with one of Rowan's teachers, who replied, "Oh...uhhh...I might have thrown one (of the insoles) away today."

And it looks like Rowan's scored the last laugh.

Game ON.

Imagine that

Yesterday afternoon, after the joy and mayhem of a Saturday morning playdate, we sat amongst the rubble that was every toy we owned. My dad turned on the TV to give us all a chance to catch our breath, and the Imagination Movers was on.

And that's when things really got crazy.

Mom and Dad started talking to each other in an alarmed kind of way. There was some running around. And then my mom spent a long time on the phone. They were awfully careful not to let on to the nature of the problem at hand.

It turns out that it wasn't so much a problem as a TOTAL CRISIS!

Back in December, my mom and dad bought tickets for me to go see the Imagination Movers tour, and after weeks of hyping it up (as if that was necessary!), just plain FORGOT ABOUT THEM.

The show was yesterday.

Well, luckily the Imagination Movers came on TV when it did, as it gave my parents just enough time to beg Ticketmaster and our local theater for mercy, then slip into our new seats (at the 4 pm show, instead of the 1 pm show) without missing a beat!

Choo Choo Soul opened the show, and literally, we didn't miss a beat!

Oh, and I got to shake Smitty's hand during the show. All was definitely forgiven!

After faced with the adversity of their own absentmindedness, my parents really found a way to make everything work out in the end. I guess this makes them heroes.

In a really warped kind of way.

Quiet time

Had a playdate Thursday at the library with some friends whose enthusiasm for puzzles, books and life in general got us in trouble with the librarian. On my way out, I passed this kid, who really seemed to embrace the concept of reading quietly.

My kind of guy.

I asked my mom to take our picture.

Winner, winner, chicken (nugget) dinner

When it comes to Purim, Rowan may have met with disappointment in the wardrobe department, but we were both big winners in our school's teacher raffle.

To help raise money for our school, we bought raffle tickets for special one-on-one activities with our favorite teachers and staff members. Rowan and I each got a handful of tickets and got to pick what we wanted to enter to win.

I excitedly dropped my tickets in the envelopes of my favorite teachers, assistants and staff members. Because she's a little more adventurous, Rowan's first pick was a teacher that my mom isn't even really sure Rowan knows. Which is when it was decided that perhaps some guidance was in order, and let's just say that more than a couple of those tickets ended up in the folder for Rowan's Favorite Teacher Ever, Miss Staci.

Miss Staci

Rowan loves Miss Staci not only because they share the same impeccable sense of fashion (the accidentally coordinated outfits above were the universe's way of saying that this relationship was meant to be), but probably also because Miss Staci lets Rowan use her cell phone. And doesn't even get mad when Rowan accidentally sends a blank text to everybody in her phone book!

Miss Staci says they're "sisters from another mister," but it's generally a little funnier when Rowan says it.

Well, despite attempting to stuff her envelope, Rowan did NOT win the Happy Meal and playtime with Miss Staci. She did, however, win a Happy Meal and playtime with Miss Julie, who just happened to be coordinating her event with Miss Staci and another teacher that Rowan really likes.

JACKPOT!

The universe works in mysterious ways, I tell you.

Miss Staci

Miss Julie

Miss Dayna

Next week we are going for ice cream with Miss Linda, who sits at the front desk. And then I'll be making tie-dye shirts with Miss Megan! With all this fun to be had, it didn't seem worth complaining that Miss Julie was MY pick.

My mom thinks all of our winnings are a sign that we are a pretty lucky pair!

My dad thinks it's probably a sign that somebody doesn't exercise discretion in how much money she spends on raffle tickets.

Chin up!

We're pretty sure this is how Kerri Strug got her start.

UPDATE: Project Big-Girl Bed

For anybody interested in Mom and Dad's progress moving Rowan to a big-kid bed, things are looking kinda like this:

Before

After

In summary, things could be going better.

Too bad, Seuss sad

Sunday was the Jewish holiday of Purim. If you're four, it's kinda the second coming of Halloween, except instead of candy you get triangular fruit-filled cookies, which I claim to be awful the entire time I am eating them.

Most kids dress up like the king or queen from the story of Purim, but technically you can dress up in any kind of costume you want. And while most of the girls in my school come dressed in princess attire, it seems that every year at least one of the teachers is the MacGuyver of costumery. Making costume magic out of bedsheets and socks.

Like last year, instead of kings and queens, my class was monkeys. And it kinda went over like this:


This year, it was Rowan's turn to forgo princesswear in favor of pillowcases. And the response was generally the same:

Here's to hoping for less zealous teachers next year, Rowan!

"Yes, Mom, I do believe the external flash IS on."

A hard nights' daze

When we visited Colorado in January, Mom and Dad introduced Rowan to The Big-Kid Bed. You may recall that she was not at all pleased to make its acquaintance.

To avoid another week's worth of nightly hazing by a toddler opposed to queen-bed amenities, Mom did her best to think outside the box spring, and this was her best and last option:

My mom figured if Rowan, who refuses to nap on demand at home, falls asleep on a cot in record time at school, it was worth a shot.

After a brief description of what it's like to share a roof with a 2-year-old displeased with the sleeping arrangements, Sharon, the kind lady at the school supply company, agreed to rush our order. So we arrived in Colorado last week to find Rowan's cot waiting.

And it was a success! For a week, Rowan went to sleep without drama and slept through the night. Which is why when we returned home on Wednesday, my dad got right to work converting Rowan's crib to a big-kid bed.

Throughout the conversion process, Rowan remained largely unaffected. And when it was complete, we took her big-kid bed for a test jump/boogie. We deemed it acceptable on all levels.

In an effort to increase Rowan's enthusiasm regarding her transition to big-kidness, mom made and presented Rowan with the Big-Kid Bed Crown. Rowan was delighted and wore the crown while she brushed her teeth. She wore it while she put on her pajamas. She wore it as she read quietly in her new big-kid bed.

She even wore that crown as she went right to sleep. My mom thought it all seemed a little too good to be true.

And it was.

At 11:45 pm, the carriage turned back into a pumpkin. And the pumpkin sat up awake in bed til 3 am, calling my mom in every five minutes (approx.) to address a number of needs.

At 12:30 am she wanted different books to read.

At 1 am she wanted to be tucked back in.

At 2 am, she informed my mom that her pajamas were too small.

The next night my mom breathed a huge sigh of relief when Rowan went right to sleep and slept for 12 hours. And very foolishly, my mom believed the worst was behind her.

While I'll spare you the details of the last two nights, it's fair to say that if Monkey's been repeatedly held hostage in order to solicit Rowan's cooperation, things probably aren't going that well.

Stand by, Sharon.

Retrospective: School pics

Me: Age 2 (almost!)

Me: Age 3

Me: Age 4

And so it begins, again...

Rowan: Age 2

Ski, skate, strike!

Wednesday we returned from our second ski trip of the year, which went better than the first in every possible way.

Nobody was sick. Bedtime was generally without drama.

But perhaps best of all, the trip was PACKED with lots of firsts, like:

My first time skiing on the mountain without a leash!
I shunned traditional ski school in favor of "Daddy and Poppy Ski School." I was head of the class!

My first time on ice skates!
Here I am when I first got out onto the ice:


And here I am one hour later:

Rowan gave ice skating about 14 seconds before she opted out in favor of being pushed around on a baby sled. But she was adamant about keeping the skates on her feet, for whatever that's worth.

And while learning to skate in an hour was definitely the highlight, watching the zamboni smooth the ice was a close second!

My first time bowling!
My dad introduced me to the Wii and I discovered that I LOVE to bowl. Not only that, but I'm GOOD! I suppose I could've let my dad win at least ONE game, but...naaaah.

This week...

...I am obsessed with "Club Can't Handle Me" (Flo Rida) ... Rowan thinks every song is sung by Ke$ha ... I declared Cheerios with milk to be "insgusting" ... I said, "Daddy does everything with me because he loves me SO much."

Lard conquers all

I have always been an independent lady.

While my mom braced for the worst when I went to school for the first time more than two years ago, my only concern was exactly how long she planned to linger before leaving me to play with my new friends.

And at the beginning of this school year, when some of my colleagues cried in the mornings at drop off, I never really noticed because I was too busy begging my mom to get a job so I could stay at school all day.

Which is why everyone was a bit perplexed when about a month ago I started a hard-core campaign to drop out of preschool. My mornings were spent describing exactly how much I didn't want to go school, and at drop off, kids three classrooms away seemed to nervously shift in their seats at the sound of my screams.

After spending some time establishing that there was nothing (and nobody) specific at the root of my sudden disdain for structured learning, my mom did what she does best:

She made a chart.


And instead of dangling a carrot, she decided to dangle carrot cake.

My reward for five days of bliss-filled drop-offs at school would be a trip to my favorite bakery to pick out any delicious treat I want.

For my first week, it was a Hello Kitty cookie!


My mom enjoyed hearing me describe exactly how excited I was to go to school every day (just so there was no confusion about whether or not I earned my sticker for the morning), and Rowan enjoyed reaping the benefits of all my hard work.

Creepy crawler

Last year, The Largest Spider in the Whole World narrowly escaped death by scurrying under the dishwasher in our kitchen. My dad was at work at the time and my mom says we were "this close" to moving before he got home.

Luckily, later in the day that spider emerged and took a Nike-sponsored trip to The Other Side. It took every ounce of courage my mom had to get close enough to facilitate the crossover.

Had she known back then that Rowan's first reaction upon seeing an alarmingly large spider was to walk over and touch it, she says the Great Spider Incident of 2010 would have gone down a bit differently.

My mom would like it to be known (for the record) that this storytime spider puppet was creepily life-like.

Lego-block Barack

...and other memorable moments from last month's trip to Legoland.