The Many Faces.

Stella. Stella. Stella.

A dynamic, wack-o little bird.

Three days bring a thousand faces.


Feeling both irritated and grateful for the grub.

Asking me to restrain myself with my bad camera ways.

Resigning herself to the camera and the mom.

Playing with brother's bike gear.

Okay.
Not one of the faces of Stella.
But she got a new dress this weekend that came with these beauties.

Exhibit C.
Crazy.
Lady.
Eating PB&J.

Waiting patiently for BBQ.

Changed her mind. Where in the hell is my food?

Blowing off steam after dinner.

Signed. Sealed. Delivered.

It's official.

He starts Kindergarten in the fall.

Now bring on medical school.

Or a Master's program in creative writing.

Or, you know...

Whatever makes him happy.

Round and Round and Round.

This weekend will be all about shopping (the kids have no clothes).

Literally, I’ve heard about this but have yet to experience it (times two). They really have no clothes. Stella's pants are too short. Henry's shirts are too tight. There are no socks. No lightweight pajamas. No leggings.


All that to say, look out Macy’s and Old Navy. We’re coming for you.

This weekend will also bring swimming. And bbqing. And music and gymnastic classes.

And there will be bike-riding practice. Henry got a new bike last weekend and we’re going to take him out for another spin round’ the park.



He’s decidedly not a fan of trying to balance a bike on his own at this point. But we’re taking a page from the old school parenting book that says “AH! Don’t baby em! Just throw em off the side off the side of the pool and they’ll learn to swim.”

Well, maybe we won’t reference the ENTIRE page of that book, but he’s definitely getting back on the proverbial horse this weekend.

It will help him hone his complaining skills to a beautiful, fine point. Which one could argue is a greater life skill than riding a bike.

We’ll see.

Four Leaf.

This weekend was full of adventure.

Saturday we hosted our annual Cinco de Mayo party but, as I write this, I realize I may talk about parties too much.


So, other than a brief mention of good friends, sombreros, cowboy hats and a GINORMOUS meal that did not suck, let me just say this particular fiesta went well.

But there’s bigger news!

We have another family member! His name is Clover and we got him on Sunday.

The bad news: When we showed up at the pet store to pick him out, we arrived about 20 minutes too early.

And it was closed.

And there was crying.

And pouting.

And more crying.

Eventually we calmed down, regrouped and made it in PetCo. We picked out Clover, picked out an aquarium, picked out water treatment, picked out a water heater, picked out a thermometer to check the water temperature, picked out plants to go in the aquarium, picked out a skull to go in the aquarium, picked out fish food. Whew! And, as a side note, picked out a new cat bed for Sam. The original pet.

It was quite a trip. I thought we’d go in, get a bowl and a fish and call it a morning. So, you know, as I’m finding more and more often these days – I was wrong.

The good news: he made it through the night and was not doing any sort of suspicious back float when we got up this morning.



Henry checks on him about every 10 and a half seconds and has declared himself quite a fish dad. And we think it's funny to say Clover's father.

I wonder if he'll feel like a father when it's time to clean the tank?

Monday. Monday.

Thank goodness for these little lizards. Otherwise, Monday would've really sucked.

That Stella likes to watch The Black Eyed Peas on Oprah on You Tube. Oh, sweet technology. She's a pop princess. Even if we don't want her to be.

But enough about Monday. Let's talk about the weekend.

Henry is still writing. I like his latest subject.

And I bought my favorite thing ever this weekend. A pink plastic grocery cart with copious amounts of plastic food for Stella's kitchen. Turns out, plastic eggs and "pretend" boxed cereal really keep kids busy.

Who knew? Not me.

Really busy.

Also. Stella has started to show interest in potty training.

But not for herself.

And there was more writing as we said goodbye to the weekend on Sunday night.

Or Something.

Not that I consider myself a cool mom (Henry and Stella will definitely not think so in about 5 or 8 short years), but I love this site.

Just Weird.

Specifics.

This morning Henry wanted peanut butter toast for breakfast. But not just any toast. He said he wanted the bottom part with peanut butter and no top part. "Okay, mom. Just the bottom part. No top part."

At 6:30 AM it took me a minute to realize that he meant he wanted toast, not a sandwich.

"And orange juice - but only filled halfway. Okay, mom? Only half way."

Got it. My next profession will be that of a short-order cook.

Hanging the Moon.

Party 2.0

Well…we did spend a little time away from the big, blue dumpster this weekend.

Because we had some partying to do.

Our friends Matt and Michele have a boy. His name is Axel. And he turned 4. Henry has a friend at school. Her name is Ava. And she turned 5.

So, you know, we were busy. And we had some fun.

We’ve known and loved Axel (and Matt and Michele and Demi) since, well, the beginning of time. And I dig their circle of friends that comes around to celebrate.

Since we've loved them since the beginning of time, I have this dream that the kids (Axel, Henry, Demi and Stella) will be friends till the end of time. I sure hope it comes true.

But let me be clear that I wouldn't want the dream I have about being chased by a murderer through my old high school to come true.

Just clarifying which dream I'm hoping to make a reality.

And on Sunday, Henry was one of only two boys at Ava’s party. I think there were 13 girls and just the two boys. Which made me happy. Although he was DONE with the party when it was time to open presents.

He wasn’t as interested in princess clothes as the rest of the party-goers.

But I like that he can hang with the girls (and it’s not just because I think little boys should be rounded up and locked away from ages 4 thru 10). It’s simply fun to see him play in a group of kids who like horses more than Batman. Or Spiderman. Or Flash.

So…now Dave is home finishing the rest of the demo/clean-up while I'm bringing home the bacon.

I guess that means party time is over. As Stella would say, "Bye Bye!"

Baby Steps

Oh, basement of ours.

You sweet, red-headed step-child, you.

We’re making slow-but-steady progress (actually “progress” might be a strong word) on prepping for some sort of remodel down there.

And today DRS finally got his wish for another step forward in the form of a big, shiny blue dumpster in our driveway.

This 1-ton monster marks the beginning of the cleanup of, well, the basement tear-down process. It will hold all the basement treasures we’re ready to part with. Like the remaining walls, sheetrock, 2x4s…

...and probably some things the Seattle recycling police wouldn’t be too proud of us for throwing in there.

But I say shizer to the recycling police.

Just this once.

And that's only because I sure do love that DRS.

So... the kids and I will need to stay plenty busy this weekend while Dave does his manly, roof-over-our heads work.

Stella thinks maybe it's time to plant the tomatoes.

Or maybe just hang out and play.

Away from the big, blue dumpster.

Hip Hop.

I love me some Easter fun...colored eggs, kids all dressed up, chocolate bunnies next to vodka. Wait. What?

And So It Begins.

All of Henry's shoes.

All of Stella's shoes.

Sprung.

So. I’ve had some sort of stomach flu for the last few days and, as it turns out, that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds.

But yesterday afternoon, the stars aligned – the sun came out – my stomach felt better. So Stella and I spent some time outside. Her throwing rocks (and occasionally her beat-up old Elmo). Me soaking in the spring sun and exploring a new found appreciation for f-stops on my camera.

It’s like Alexander Pope was hanging out with us, talking his “hope springs eternal” mumbo jumbo.

It was a good afternoon is all I’m saying.

And, speaking of authors. Henry is becoming one. His books mostly have to do with Spiderman and Batman kicking the Joker’s ass.

But we’ll worry about that later. Right now, I’m just loving the 15 or 20 “novels” lying around the house by Henry James…Seward.