If You Give a Girl A Bath.

She'll probably boss  you around and ask for bath toys.

Amusement.

As if Disneyland weren't enough for one year, we took the kids to the Puyallup Fair on Saturday. 

I want to write about how much fun we had and how great the weather and the crowds were. 

But I can't.  So avert your eyes if you're opposed to cranky-talk.

We've been before and it was great.

But this year sucked.

What is usually a 45-minute drive took us two hours (apparently we weren't the only ones who wanted to do it at a trot or do it at a gallop).

It was 80 degrees (which is GREAT if you've dressed yourself for the weather - which I, of course, did not do).

There were, quite literally, 62 million people in attendance.  No room to walk.  Long lines.  And it was hot (or did I already say that?).

And Henry wasn't tall enough to ride the rollercoaster.

SHIZER! 

Okay - enough with the crankiness.

There was one really fabulous bright spot. 

The boat ride.  

The kids loved it.  We loved it.  The water was cool.

The memory of that boat ride is going to be what brings us back to the Puyallup next year.  It's like having a baby, I suppose.  You forget the heat and the yelling and the inappropriately dressed teens. 

And just remember the ride.

This and That.

Do you think that if Henry can make all these paper boats at a mere five-years old, I should have him tested for the Spectrum program?  Do you know what the Spectrum program is?  Me neither, but I have to figure it out in the next two business days.

Stella never whines for toys when she's with me in a store.  Isn't that wierd?  Henry started whining for toys at the ripe old age of 18 months. So, it's a good thing she's aggressive (or assertive, whichever), bossy and cranky everywhere else or I'd start to think she was a really good child.

I really want to be a fly on the wall in Henry's classroom.  So I've volunteered to be a room mom.  Or a co-room mom.  Or co-head room mom.  Or co-head motha' in charge.  I'm not sure what my official title is.  All I know is that all the room moms met in the cafeteria this morning and there are some moms who would have enjoyed the 1950's.  Room mom-ing could be a bigger part of their lives than it is mine.  Does that make them wrong or me?  Or no one?  Does anyone have to be wrong? As long as we're all there to support our kids (or be flies on the wall) it's all good, I imagine.

Stella likes Uncle Jeff.

Speaking of Uncle Jeff, if I could get on a train and go anywhere right now, I think it would be New York. Gawd, I love New York and could really use some cosmopolitan air. But by the time I got there on a train my vacation would be over, so maybe I'd like to take a plane to New York. 

I sat in a car today and waited for Henry to take his music class. That is one simple joy I did not know existed until this very day. Waiting in cars for kids.  I'm sure the novelty will run out.  Quickly.  But, my goodness, what a nice half an hour.

This and that's it.

Home.

Last weekend was a good one.

The kids got to go see Gramma and Grampa in Othello.  It was the Adam's County Fair and Rodeo.  And the kids just loved it.

And they love being at Gramma and Grampa's.

It reminded me of when I took the kids there several weeks ago.

Othello is always a big slice of home.

And it gives the kids something they won't get over here in da city.  Like...

Time with grampa out in the backyard.

Feeding the chickens.

Fixing trucks (or supervising)...

Bringing in the eggs...

And hanging out at Uncle Jeff's.  With the cows and the chickens and the, well, wide open spaces. 



Lucky kids, lucky us to have more than a couple places to call home.

Of Many Firsts

Okay.

I need to sit down.

And have a drink.

Because you may notice a pink bow in my girl's hair in the pic below (more on that later).

First, let's back up a bit. To the start of the day, when Stella had never had her hair cut. Or never had a bow in her hair. And Henry had never ridden a bike without training wheels.

That seems like MONTHS ago. Now that it's 8:25 P.M.

Henry had the idea this week that he'd like his training wheels taken off bike.

And, like anything with Henry, if it's his idea...it's going to happen. It might take a while, but it will happen. Walking, potty training, writing, and on and on. And now bike riding. Even though, a month ago, he was convinced that we were obviously not his real parents when we merely suggested that he try riding without them.
But then, you see, HE decided he should try riding without them. And he did it.

Boy, did he.

So proud of that little fool. And I mean Henry, not Dave. Although Dave did chase him all over hell and creation for the afternoon. And that was impressive too.

Okay.

So back to that pink bow.

We took both the kids to get their hair cut today. And it was Stella's first haircut.

I thought she'd go completely nuts but, as it turns out, the girl likes a salon.

And, while she won't let me come within five feet of her hair, she let the hair dresser (who I accidently told I about the whole five-feet zone and my feelings of woes about it) cut it, spray it and wrap it up like a little doll.

And when I said doll, I really meant doll.

She looks nothing like this now, four hours later. She's scruffed up just like we like her. Her bangs are just a little shorter.

But it was kinda fun to see her like this for just a second. Blonde hair in bows and curls. Almost like a little lady. Until she said, "Bow all done. Get bow gone. Now."

Ah, there's my girl.