Super Dad to the rescue

After a holiday weekend of wind, thunder and rain, we finally awoke today to sunshine and 90-degree weather. But alas it was my mom's headache that put a damper on today's activities.

The cure entailed a small amount of medicine and a large supply of quiet. Since Rowan and I used up all our quiet in our sleep last night, my dad took us to Legoland for a couple hours.

My mom declared him to be "Super Dad" for taking us two-on-one (i.e., outnumbered) in the early afternoon (i.e., naptime for kids who don't shun the sleep, like we do) to a kiddie attraction (i.e., chaos!) on a holiday weekend (i.e., chaos! to the power of five).

Which is likely why he looks so heroic in this picture we got on the dragon ride. If we had only realized that we were in the presence of Super Dad, perhaps we would not have looked so panicked.

Pocus

This morning, Rowan was the headliner of a magic show at The Kitchen Counter. Rowan's greatest attribute as a magician is her ability to look amazed by her own tricks.

And the nominees for Best Dramatic Interpretation of a Fairy Tale are...

Transcript:
Little pig, little pig,
let me in.

Not by the hair
of my chinny, chin chin.

Then I'll huff
and I'll puff
and I'll blow your house down.

Spring is here!

And in regular Chicago fashion, it's just in time for summer.

Birthday Wishes: Granted!

For two months I've been asking for the Rapunzel Tower, from the movie Tangled. My dad said "yes" (because my dad pretty much says "yes" to anything that our house is zoned to accommodate) but my mom said "no," simply because it costs as much as four modest princess castles combined.

For this petty reason, I was told that I would need to put it on my birthday or Chanukah list. According to my calculations, it was about FOREVER until either. (Give or take a day or two.)

Little did I know that my dad had put the Rapunzel Tower on his birthday list, and his birthday is TODAY!!

We arrived home to find this yesterday:


And helped Daddy open it to find this:




Happy birthday, Daddy! As you grow up every year into a daddy we are so proud of, I would like to say that I'm pretty sure you got your exquisite taste in toys from me!

A mean cleaning

Forgive the belated post, but it's taken a couple months to move past the trauma that was my third trip to the dentist.

Trip one was a breeze. Trip two was cake. But a last minute rescheduling of our appointment in March left my third cleaning right smack in the middle of naptime.

Mom thought, How bad could it be? My mom accepted her fate in the name of oral hygiene.

Being Rowan's first trip to the dentist, I fulfilled my big-sisterly duties by informing her that there was not a thing to worry about. Here's some footage from my pre-cleaning pep talk.

And 10 seconds after this Hallmark moment, the screaming commenced.

Not just Rowan -- me, too! I'll spare you the play-by-play, but suffice it to say that there was not a single person in either wing of the building who was not aware that we were having our teeth cleaned.

Against our will.

On our way out, my mom eyed the comments box and briefly entertained the idea of suggesting analgesics for moms and dads.

But I think they were pretty eager for us to leave.

Their attempts to buy our silence by allowing us to choose
from this menu of toys was not what you might call successful. Bet they
REALLY regret letting Rowan pick two!

Hitting the bars (again)

That's what it's all about

When you're little, you mean what you say, but you don't always say exactly what you mean.

For instance, when we're listening to music in the car, Rowan and I ask all the time, "What's this song about?"

Although it sounds like we're requesting a lyrical analysis, that's just our way of asking for the title of the song.

The thing is that we oftentimes listen to songs that one might argue are inappropriate for young adults teenagers kids preschoolers because they're just so CATCHY!

One of our very favorite songs at the moment is "This Afternoon," by Nickelback. Whenever it comes on the radio, Rowan shouts, "Nickelback!"

In case you've never heard it, here's a brief sampling of the lyrics:

"We got weeds in the backyard four feet tall

Cheech and Chong probably would have smoked them all

So I'm out on the couch this afternoon.

Beer bottles laying on the kitchen floor

If we take them all back we can buy some more

So I doubt we'll go without this afternoon."

And even though Mom knows what we mean when we ask, "What's this song about?" it still makes her a little anxious when we ask about this song.

Because she realizes that one day we're really gonna ask what this song is about. And then she'll have to tell us.

It's about crabgrass and recycling.

Meeting my twin

So, look, I don't like to complain.

(At least not in writing. I do my best work in person.)

But lately I haven't been confusing my bedroom for The Plaza Hotel, you know?

Housekeeping's kinda unpredictable. Some days they tend to my room. Some days they don't. Generally, though, having my bed "turned down" is a fancy way of saying that it's not made.

My biggest complaint really, though, is the bed itself. Some might wonder who possibly couldn't appreciate an espresso sleigh bed with handcarved detail.

The kid trying to share that toddler bed with 27 books, an Etch-a-Sketch and a small menagerie of friends. That's who.

The time had very much come to say goodbye to my converted crib.

Which is why it was a most excellent surprise to return home from a sleepover at my Yaya and Papa's yesterday to find a TWIN BED in my room! Finally I have room to lay back and stretch my legs without kicking "The Library."

Now who to talk to about getting those chocolate mints on my pillow...

BEFORE

AFTER

Jillie on ice

Yesterday my mom picked me up early from school for my first ice skating lesson, and it came as a surprise to no one that I L-O-V-E-D it!

Of all the kids in my class, I surely fall the most. But the falls are generally connected to some kind of daring maneuver and almost aways accompanied by dramatic sound effects. And all that falling doesn't seem to bother me in the least. In fact, my first words when I stepped off the ice after class were, "Mommy, can I come back?"

I'll admit that I spent the first few minutes sizing up the competition in my class. (I am my father's daughter, so EVERYTHING is a competition.) Two of the girls are sisters and prefer to remain mostly stationary. One of them cries constantly and the other wears gloves so large they make her appear to have mutant hands. Guessing these are distraction tactics. Very clever!

But there's a 6-year-old in the class that I can tell is gonna give me a run for my money. He wore a helmet to class, as if to suggest that any moment he may attempt a triple axle.

Pretty sure he's bluffing.

Anything that's worth doing is worth doing enthusiastically, which is why I'm yelling, "I'm turning! Tuuurniiiing!"

Spellcheck

In recent months, we've been amusing ourselves with foam letters in the bathtub. I've recently become interested in learning to spell, and since Rowan generally tends to follow my lead, she's become interested in spelling, too.

A few weeks ago, my mom caught her spelling this:

At first glance, you may assume that she spelled "toy" backwards. To the contrary, she actually put together the word "yacht."

She has Champagne taste, but Hamburger Helper spelling.

Sabotage!

This week, preparations concluded for my second ballet recital, scheduled for this Saturday. You might recall that I had a ballet recital last year, but it was just in the gym at my school. It doesn't quite feel official when your performance is in the exact same spot you ride a tricycle across daily.

But this year, I took lessons at a real studio, and so our recital is on a real stage in a real theater. On Tuesday night, my friends and I met to practice for the big day and work out the kinks.

Well, the biggest kink turned out to be Rowan, who was VERY disgruntled that everybody had a costume but her. And even more peeved that everybody but her got to get up on the stage and dance.

My mom had anticipated some boredom on Rowan's part during the rehearsal, but not anger. She hadn't prepared herself for anger. So she had to improv a bit and offered Rowan a costume that looked remarkably like the dress and headband I had worn to school that day. This appeased her.

Momentarily.

Just not momentarily enough.

Because just as my friends and I lined up and smiled, posing gracefully in our dainty pink costumes, Rowan quietly made her way into the picture and did the first and least graceful thing that came to mind.

She stuck her finger in her nose.

She then proceeded to offer commentary somewhat loudly during rehearsal, including comments like, "They're done, " "I wanna go," and "I dance, too! I DANCE, TOO!"

Here is a sneak peak of Saturday's big performance, for which Rowan will surely be wearing a costume of some kind. And for those of you who will be in attendance, should security escort Rowan off the real stage or from the real theater, we ask that you kindly pretend not to notice.

New loo

Three years ago this month, we moved into a new house. And while my mom and dad were expecting that things would need replacing every now and then, this week's repair was a shock to us all.

A new toilet seat.

Monday morning, we came downstairs to find a big crack in the toilet seat. When I saw it, I let out a gasp and shouted, "Somebody must have come into our house in the night and broken our toilet!"

And since at that very moment our painter, Mario, knocked on our front door, I added, "I don't think it was Mario."

Sadly, we may never know who it was. But my mom says it's probably the same person who snuck into our house in the night and broke our garbage disposal by trying to grind up the rind of an entire watermelon. Fool!

Rowan just seems relieved that it has nothing to do with her occasionally stopping by the bathroom to slam down the toilet seat with the force of a thousand men.

Passing the bars

Last Sunday, my friend's dad brought a kite to the park, and it reminded me about my own kite, which has been collecting dust in our garage all winter. And so started the obsession with bringing my dragon kite to the park.

Although my mom promised that we'd head back the next weekend, every day on our way home from school, I asked if we could go to the park. Somewhere around the middle of the week (and the 14th request), my mom said, "Jillian, it's kinda hard for Daddy to get to the park to fly a kite during the week."

"It's not hard to fly a kite," I retorted.

Despite my snappy rebuttal, it took us 'til today to finally make it to the park with the kite. And then it took about 10 minutes for me to discover that once it's in the air, the exciting portion of kite flying is essentially over. So I made my way over to playground.

Which is how today became the day that I mastered the monkey bars. Made it across all by myself for the first time! And as I jumped down from the last bar and brushed a little mulch from my hands, I declared, "Now I'm a big kid!!"

Which reminded my mom on this Mother's Day that the time really does go too fast.

With the monkey bars mastered, Dad and I decided to turn our attention to hopskotching on the way home.

Where is the love?

Yesterday all the moms in my morning class were invited to school for a Mother's Day Tea and live entertainment featuring a choreographed version of "Four Hugs a Day." Despite countless practice sessions together reviewing the music and choreography, my partner decided right before curtain that I was, in fact, NOT his partner.

Clearly he is not aware of what a tremendous hugger I actually am. The years I've spent tirelessly hugging those around me, whether they want it or not.

Ever the consummate performer, I carried on with the show as if nothing was wrong. (Hey, I even made hiking up my tights look like part of the routine!) And although he resisted my charms at the outset, I think I won him over by the freestyle section.

The experience overall didn't dampen my spirits...further.

See, I was still internalizing the trauma of a misunderstanding earlier in the morning about how I wanted my hair styled for the big event. So I looked like this for much of the tea.

In the end, though, I closed out the morning with a new dance partner and left in good spirits.

Looking forward to spending my hugs this Mother's Day weekend on somebody who REALLY appreciates them!

All about Rowan

This video taken right before breakfast last week tells you a lot about Rowan and what she's like at (almost) two-and-a-half, including:

1. She LOVES her Tinkerbell pajamas. They (or the identical back-up set) are always her first pick out of the pajama drawer.

2. You will always find her sitting down to eat breakfast with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Otherwise, for the rest of the day her hair will be texturally enhanced with the gummy residue of Special K Red Berry with milk.

3. We are huge fans of Jake and the Neverland Pirates, a new Disney Jr. show.

4. Rowan loves to sing. My mom caught her randomly singing the Jake and the Neverland Pirates theme song in the kitchen on this morning -- hence the video. This version is a little more restrained than the original, what with the pressure of performing for the camera and all.

Transcript:

Jake and the Neverland Pirates

Come along and be a pirate, too.

Ro-cabulary

Rowan has a lot to say, but she isn't always the easiest to understand. So I've developed this guide of some of her latest phrases that sometimes require a translator.

Yuh-AH-kihm: Polite response to "thank you"

Mah-DOO-ih: No assistance needed

Ahh-DEE-ih: Mission accomplished

JEE-yihns BAHR-in Me: I am being harassed by my sister

Getting closure

I have recently learned to operate a zipper. This is good news for my slow push toward independence and GREAT news for my mom, who always seems like she could use an extra pair of hands in getting us out the door on time.

If you want to get a good idea of just how long it takes me to successfully close a zipper, my mom suggests that you consider the following points about the video below:

1. This video was started well enough into the zipper-closing attempt for her to think that this might be an amusing subject for the blog, including time for her to fish her phone out of her bag and open the video app.
2. This video is almost a minute long.
3. The zipper is still not closed at the end of the video.

Which explains a lot if you've noticed we're about 40 percent later than usual these days.

Carrots

Rowan has an interesting relationship with carrots. She is constantly asking for them and chews them up with delight. Something about the texture, though, seems to make them impossible for her to swallow.

As my mom is not big on having chewed up food routinely spit back out into her hand (or, worse yet, on the floor), she cut off Rowan's carrot supply.

Which was not a big deal until a few months ago when Rowan was begging for a snack in the car and the only thing my mom had on hand were carrots. Rowan received one baby carrot after taking a solemn oath NOT to spit it out.

After the carrot disappeared without a trace, my mom reached into the back seat and offered Rowan another. And then another.

Until she realized that Rowan was oddly silent.

Having a mouth stuffed full of carrots will do that to you.

It finally occurred to my mom last week to steam the carrots. And so for the first time in her life, Rowan is enjoying all facets of carrot consumption.

Skaters and sabers

Recently Rowan has developed a love for skateboarding. Ever since Dad took her for her first skateboard ride a few weeks ago, every time we head outside she begs any available adult to hold her hands and pull her down the sidewalk.

To better fit her new skater image, she is shunning hairbrushes of any kind and generally trying to appear angry and rebellious.

Angry

Rebellious

In the meantime, Dad introduced me to the light saber. And told me that he is my father.

Kinda old news at this point.