Sum-Sum-Summertime!

These pictures are from Memorial Day Weekend, which is of course not technically summer, but it is unofficially the beginning of the summer picnic-watermelon-outdoor-swimming-corn-on-the-cob-festivity season.

Go ahead, guess which of these hyphenates are most important to my kid?

It's been a weird spring so far -- nice, but cool at night. My uncle the Picnic Master opened his pool the first weekend in May, but temperatures went down into the 40's a lot of nights until about two weeks ago. Thankfully he has the hot tub, and once my kid got in there, there was no getting her out.

 

Except to go off the diving board. Mad props to her, too, because the water in the main pool was only about 64°F. But she passed her "big kid" swimming class, and now we'll let her go into the deep end without an adult present (although someone needs to be nearby to watch her). You'd think someone gave her a million dollars and a free puppy.

Ain't No Party Like A Preschool Party

'Cuz a preschool party has a trampoline and an ice cream truck. HOLLA!

In case you were wondering: no, we did not intend to cut her hair that short. I am significantly less than happy about it, honestly, and in fact had quite a nice little nutty hysterical fit, but I'll be damned if the kid isn't enough of a diva to pull it off. It's longer than it was at first, since it's had a week to grow in already. On the plus side, her shower time has been cut in half, and we don't spend 45 minutes alternately screaming and then staring dumbly at each other in the morning trying to detangle / comb out / style her damn fool head.

Synchronized noshing. This picture gets me REALLY EXCITED about the photo possibilities for the summer, because I am that totally dorky aunt who bought matching outfits and swimsuits for these two so that I can do the whole "identical cousins" thing for next year's calendar. Because don't they look so much alike? Except my niece looks like my dad and my daughter looks like my mom and so basically they look exactly nothing alike?

For the longest time I thought I hit the jackpot, because Shae has so much personality and pizzazz in pictures, but it turns out I actually hit the jackpot at least TWICE, because Makayla loves posing for the camera, too. You can't really tell here, but she was pedaling herself backwards on this trike and saying "Vroom vroom!" the entire time and it was the cutest thing EVER.

I asked Makayla to show me her lollipop, and she held it out to me like she was going to let me have a taste, and then yoinked it away at the last minute, all "HA ha!" like Nelson Muntz. Booger. Wiseassery runs in the family, obviously. Must be something in the water.

Hey, look! CAKEFACE! Oh, how I missed it.

PARTY TIME! EXCELLENT!

Someone went and turned five without my permission. I am not ready to be the parent of a school-age child. It makes me feel so old.

She's kind of smug about it, actually, but I'll forgive her this ONE TIME because she's so cute.

She wanted to start kindergarten yesterday morning. Because when you're five, you get to go to kindergarten. Could you just die?

We had a piñata at the party but we didn't get very good pictures, but we did get a great shot of the Oogie's Ice Cream truck, which judging from the response of the crowd is maybe the single greatest thing that ever existed in the entire history of the whole wide world.

I'm kind of inclined to agree, myself. Who doesn't love an ice cream truck? Nobody I want to know.

The only bummer about her party was that it was cold, maybe 40°F. But nobody minded, really, because there was an ice cream truck.

At least sometimes she's still my little girl.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

Now that all that other sad stuff is over with -- well, all over but the random crying jags and the self-medication with the occasional caramel-dipped shortbread cookie that actually tastes more like butterscotch, if you want to be completely honest, not that I am complaining, because I really think there ought to be more butterscotch-based cuisine in the world -- it's time to get back to our regularly-scheduled recounting of events that happened to my kid way the hell back more than a week ago, which is practically a lifetime in preschooler years. I mean, she probably doesn't even remember this stuff any more -- which is of course precisely why I take 958 squidillionty pictures of everything that happens ever day forever and ever, amen.

So Shae's friend from school had a birthday party, and there was a sprinkler with a spinning head that you could jump over, and it was pretty much determined to be The Greatest Thing Ever for like ten minutes until someone got the brilliant idea to start throwing water balloons at each other's heads.

That went as well as could be expected. Nobody lost an eye, thankfully, primarily because small children do not have (1) especially strong throwing arms or (2) particularly good aim, both of which significantly improved the odds in favor of not having to call the paramedics to remove little rubber bits from tiny eyeballs.

Oh, and there were also frozen Dora bars that I think were made of sherbet or something, with gumball eyes. They were kind of gross and messy and of course they were a huge hit with the kids. Although Shae was disappointed because the boys got Spider-Man pops, which were equally disgusting, with the added bonus of being bright blue and red and shaped like a superhero instead of "some dumb girl." It's like she's not even my child or something -- oh, wait.

Looks like someone is proud of her gift-wrapping skills. It IS my very favorite part of Christmas, after all, and it's fair to say that WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS, RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE, every day all the time all year 'round.

And, yes, there was cake. This particular cake was very pretty and I really love the flower work here. This cake was almost too pretty to eat.

But only almost.

A Day (Plus A Week) Late

Last Wednesday, July 27th, was my brother-in-law's birthday. No, the other brother-in-law. I was supposed to get a cake for him the weekend before last, because I wanted to be able to post pictures on his actual birthday, but if you've been having the same kind of crazy-ass summer that I've been having, then you'll understand why it seems like absolutely diddly-squat is getting done on time.

But we did get a cake for him last weekend, and I was planning to put up pictures yesterday in honor of the first week-a-versary of his 29th birthday (I think he said he is 29; I don't even remember any more because I am having a pretty awful case of old-lady-brain lately, and I'm lucky I can even remember which kid is mine at the preschool most of the time), but see above paragraph re: the special insanity that is my life, and be glad that I remembered to put up pictures in the same calendar year.

And also be glad that we managed to avoid burning down my grandparents' house, because it was windy that day, and yet we insisted on having candles, and do you have any idea how flammable most of the small-child-related crap my sisters and I have to lug around all the time is? Thank God the pool was right there, in case we needed to put out any frosting and/or hair fires.

Why, yes, of course I took pictures of my kid eating the cake. What are you, new?

Everybody got into the cake-eating action, even the baby, and even though I believe birthday cake is technically verboten for babies before their first birthday, I personally endorse letting kids have at least a taste of cake every once in a while, because otherwise how do you know if they're going to like it? How am I supposed to form a loving, lasting relationship with someone who does not adore baked goods as I do, I ask you?

Oh, wait: that whole child-of-my-sister thing. Whatever, pedant.

Makayla had frosting put on her nose for pictures - I did that, even though I not-so-secretly actually want to pose her with a Marlboro and a Zippo and recreate the bestest picture in all the history of the lands and the seas and the Internets - and so of course SOMEBODY ELSE needed to do the same thing. Shae is generally very good with other kids, especially with my niece and nephew (she calls them her "sister-cousin" and her "brother-cousin," respectively, which is just so many kinds of adorable that there aren't even words, even though if you think about it long enough you start pondering "sister-wives" and then things go down a rabbit hole from which there might possibly be no escape save from going outside or something, getting some fresh air for a little while, not that I encourage that sort of behavior, because it's just entirely too wholesome), but even though she usually flatly refuses to look at the camera when I am trying to take pictures of her, if she notices that I am pointing the camera at anyone else, she tends to become a bit of a show-off, as older siblings and cousins are wont to do. (I myself was guilty of this from 1977 through approximately 1990, inclusive.)

And of course when I end up getting a picture like this one out of it, I can't exactly start discouraging that sort of behavior, now can I?, or else ... well, I will no longer get pictures like this one. Which would be a damned shame, because this is one of the best pictures of her that I've taken all summer. I am particularly fond of the lighting here, and the way her hair just is.

Anyway ... happy birthday to my brother-in-law, a week and day after your birthday. Better late than never, though, right? (And hey: I remembered that orange is one of your favorite colors and picked out this cake instead of the one with pink balloons, so I think I ended up doing alright. If you disagree, be polite and lie about it, okay?)

Pour Some Sugar On Me

I am sure that somewhere down in the deepest darkest primoridal lizard parts of my brain there is a semi-reasonable explanation for why I appear to be obsessed with taking pictures of my kid eating cake.

But even if you held a gun to my head, I don't think I could really come up with a particularly good reason.

It must be the heat, or some rare disease. (La-la-la.)

Or too much to eat, or maybe it's fleas.

All I know is, I really really like taking pictures of my kid when she is eating cake.

Probably it's because cake makes my kid happy, and my kid makes me happy, and so seeing my kid happy makes me happiest of all. Also, both cake and my kid are delicious, so.

Seasons In The Sun

Shae has FINALLY had a chance to get her butt in the pool (literally, her butt, and not just her toes, which is all that had been technically allowed previously, although let's just all be honest here and recognize that when I say "just put your feet in," she merely views that as a suggestion, much like I view "55 mph" as a suggestion). She cannot be happier about it, I'd say.

Last weekend (before Father's Day) we went to a picnic at my aunt's, and in this great big backyard that is probably more than an acre, where there are trees and hills and tire swings and mud puddles and weeds up to your knees and all manner of fascinating insects, Shae zeroed right in on the inflatable pool.

Because OF COURSE SHE DID. She also did some hard time -- in her swimsuit -- in the sandbox, and we spent about 25 minutes in the shower afterwards, trying to wash approximately eleventy bajillion pounds of sand out of her bathing suit and her hair. OH MY GOD, her hair. You can probably understand why we got her a haircut over the weekend (or, as my brother-in-law put it, we "scalped" her, but IT SHOULD NOT TAKE 45 MINUTES to comb out a 4-year-old's head).

Still and all, I love seeing her in her natural element. Nothing makes her face light up quite like a swimming pool. Or a bathtub. Or a fish tank. Or a Dixie cup full of water from the bathroom sink. Sometimes I am convinced that she was born two weeks too late, and she is actually supposed to be a Pisces, not an Aries, because COME ON. Does this kid seem like a fire sign to you?

No, she's totally a water baby. Maybe there IS something to that "new horoscope" business after all. (Although I will always and forever be a Taurus and nobody can convince me otherwise ... and isn't that the surest sign of a Taurus that ever there was?)

Moon Over Parma

So ... apparently my kid likes bowling.

One of her school friends (her "boyfriend," the one who is "already in [her] soul," and believe me, I have NO IDEA where kids pick this stuff up) had a bowling party for his 4th birthday. Can you imagine a dozen or so four-year-olds throwing 6-lb. and 8-lb. bowling balls around? Yeah, I couldn't either, until I saw it for myself.

Bowling balls are bouncier than I remember, but then again, I don't make a habit of dropping them directly on the floor. Also, it's a lot noisier than I might have expected. Don't ask me why I thought there would be any degree of quietude at a 4-year-old's bowling birthday party; birthday parties are loud enough to begin with. Heck, 4-year-olds are loud enough to begin with.

But anyway, Shae really enjoyed flinging the balls around. For kids' parties, at least for kids this age, they set up this cute little ramp-thing so that they don't have to try to actually get the ball to the end of the alley without accidentally dislocating a shoulder or breaking any fingers or toes. Plus, this way, every once in a while someone would accidentally magically roll a strike.

The only thing cuter than a 4-year-old in a gingham dress and bowling shoes -- I love me some bowling shoes, and I always have to stop myself from stealing them when I leave the alley -- is a 4-year-old in a gingham dress and bowling shoes jumping up and down out of her mind with glee because she just made a spare. Even though she has no idea what in the holy hamhock a "spare" is, or how hard is it to make a 7-10 split when the ball is moving at the speed of a live-action slow-motion replay.

And this? Is my contractually-obligated snap of my kid eating a birthday cupcake. Hey, it was a birthday party -- you KNEW there would be cupcakes.

Dept. of Redundancy Dept.

Wanna know some things I never get sick of taking (or posting) pictures of?

(1) My kid.

(2) Cupcakes.

(3) My kid, eating cupcakes.

(4) Miscellaneous.

Party People In The House

If you had told me four years ago that I would ever unironically fall in love with a possibly toxic neon-colored Hello Kitty birthday cake, that in fact it would turn out to be my favorite part of a pretty gosh-darned kick-ass kiddie party, I would have laughed right in your face.

But here we are. Just goes to show you what becoming a parent will do to you, I suppose.

And if, at the same time, you would have told me that I there would come a day when a child would be more excited about eating fistfuls of cheddar cheese popcorn and running around outside than she would be about opening presents at her own birthday party, I would have probably checked you for dengue fever or something.

But, again, here we are. We pretty much had to pull Shae into the house by her hair to get her to open her gifts. One of those rare, exciting opportunities to tear the ever-living snot out of some brightly-colored paper ON PURPOSE, and she wanted to be out in my parents' yard blowing bubbles with her friends.

At least she found SOME reason to get excited. Sunglasses apparently figure prominently in her happy place. I was a little bit disappointed at her reaction to the stuff we gave her -- a stuffed Perry the Platypus and a stuffed Stich, Hello Kitty jellybeans and a gummy dinosaur, a "princess plant" (which I think is actually some kind of orchid or something), and the pièce de résistance ...

... a sparkly, princessy pair of authentic Mouse ears for our upcoming trip to Disneyland -- these things apparently did not do much for her in the moment. She was far more stoked about her new beach towel, and her Belle fashion doll, and this little Nerf-like water cannon thing with a rubber duckie on the handle. Oh, and her new Phillies shirt. All these things, apparently, were much more thrilling than the stuff we got her that she actually asked for.

But my favorite part, aside from seeing all those friends and family members having a good time and spending the better part of an afternoon listening to the sweet sound of the unbridled laughter of about a dozen small children, was definitely the Hello Kitty birthday cake. I mean, MY GOD, it LIT UP. How cool is that? (Plus: that is QUALITY BUTTERCREAM FROSTING, y'all. Artificial colors AND real live honest-to-God sugar. YES PLEASE.)