Rowan: The 2011 highlights reel

Given her recent promotion to Age 3, now seemed like an appropriate time to release Rowan's 2011 highlights reel.

People say the two's are terrible but, Rowan, you make 'em look good.

On The Big Oh-Three and regifting

Yesterday we broke out the cupcakes and our best chocolate milk in celebration of Rowan's third birthday.   It was a festive occasion marked by a trip to library, lunch and ice cream at our favorite restaurant, homemade Elmo cupcakes, the receipt of a small Rapunzel Tower (which packed as much excitement as the big one we got for my dad's birthday), and a 45-minute tantrum sandwiched somewhere between all that.

Just to remind us all that she is not mellowing with age.

2008: The Original Birthday

2009

2010

2011

The small Rapunzel Tower was actually a regift of sorts, originally purchased for my dad's birthday back when my mom thought he surely would be open to receiving a more economical Rapunzel Tower if only he knew such a thing existed. 

Surely he was not.

(And for all of you who thought I was joking when I told you that my dad wanted the Rapunzel Tower for his birthday, I kidded you not.)

My mom explained that, apparently, it's the equivalent of asking for an Escalade and being given a Mini Cooper with the justification that they're both vehicles.

Which is how the modest-sized tower came to be thrown to the back of the closet and forgotten juuuuuust long enough to exceed Target's 90-day return policy.  So when Rowan's birthday -- which this year fell five days after her birthday party and two days into the start of Chanukah -- came around, my mom figured the little tower would be an acceptable (albeit modest and unrequested) gift. Only fitting for a time of year in which the glut of presents seems to make it  impossible for a preschooler to keep straight what they've gotten, who it's been from and what it's been for.

At least she's hoping that theory holds to be true, given that after much begging on my part for Santa to stop at our house this year, The Big Guy's decided to swipe a gift from our Chanukah pile to leave us by the fireplace on Christmas morning.

More pics from the 2011 celebration:

 

 

  

 

Pondering marriage

Although I have yet to turn five, over the past year or so I've received somewhat informal marriage proposals from two of my preschool colleagues. Which is perhaps why, as I stood at the bathroom sink on Sunday night brushing my teeth, my thoughts randomly turned to marriage.

In a voice that sounded concerned and deeply contemplative, I said, "But I'm not exactly sure who I'm going to marry."

My mom assured me that I have a LOT of time to figure it all out, to which I responded, "But I can't marry Daddy, right?"

She told me I could not and asked me if I knew why I couldn't marry Daddy.  To which I promptly responded, "Yes."

"Because he's old."

A tale of six monkeys

Rowan and her sidekick Monkey have a love that runs deep, dating back practically to her birth, which will be three years ago this Thursday.  At around the age of one, when crib luxuries like blankets and stuffed animals were no longer prohibited, Monkey became (and remains to this day) a sleep-time staple and constant school-time companion.

Even though he wasn't officially enrolled, Monkey was permitted to be a part of last year's class photo.

Around the time Monkey became the official sidekick, Mom quietly purchased a body double, who hid out quietly in the closet for those times when Monkey's whereabouts were unaccounted for.  And because you can never be TOO prepared, at some point, Monkey's body double got a body double, and the original Monkey became indiscernible from the others, but for emergency surgery in which a portion  of his head needed to be reattached to his body for reasons we can only assume were related to a little too much lovin'. And before long, all three monkeys were on active duty.

Then last month, tragedy befell our house when a) one monkey went off the grid for an extended period of time, and b) another monkey was assaulted with a pen at Rowan's school.  While the perpetrator was clearly an adult skilled at drawing monkey nostrils, the investigation never produced any solid leads.  But the two unfortunate events led to the decision to recruit even more monkeys to our household, so Grandma sent a triple pack. 

And while the Department of Common Sense sent a memo to my mom strongly suggesting that these new monkeys be put aside for an emergency, the joy of seeing Rowan's eyes the size of saucers at the sight of so many monkeys prevailed.

Rowan's response upon unwrapping a triple pack of monkeys: "It's too many monkeys!!"

For days after the receipt of three new monkeys, Rowan toted around one monkey in a Moses basket and the Box-O-Monkeys.

The resurfacing of Missing Monkey a few days later meant six monkeys on active duty. 

And so when it came time to select a theme for Rowan's Third Birthday, it seemed only too obvious:

In lieu of generic streamers and balloons, we decorated the party with a much more personal approach -- movie posters featuring Rowan and an unidentified member of the Monkey Pack. 

 

Nothing like sharing your birthday with a good friend.  Happy Third Birthdays, Rowan and Original Monkey.  Whichever one you are.

Holdout

So the good thing about having a dad who's still a kid at heart is that you tend to get a lot of really great toys.  The bad thing is that sometimes my dad thinks the toys are too great to actually hand over.

My mom says that one day when I'm older I should ask him about The Grape Ape piggy bank he bought "me" when I was a kid.  And then maybe he'll take it down from his closet and let me have a look at it.

The great skate

Last weekend, seven months of skating lessons culminated in my debut performance in the annual holiday skating show.  My family thought I did an outstanding job, and my teacher must have agreed because yesterday I was promoted to the next level in skating school!