Again with the Bullets

You know if I have gone this long without a post, there is going to have to be a bulleted list. I know from my so-called career as a so-called technical writer that a bulleted list is supposed to consist of parallel items. This means that the items should be the same sort of items. So, what the following items have in common is...er, that they are things that I am now bothering to mention in the bulleted list blog entry of today.

• I went to a charity cocktail party a few weeks ago in support of an organization that my friend is involved in. If you have never been to a charity cocktail party, it is basically a cocktail party where everyone is hipper and more Seattle-ish and more socially and politically active than I am (none hard to achieve, really), and where there is very nice wine and super snacks. And at the end, you write them a check. At least, this is my generalization based on the one event. But here is the interesting part: the supremely swank lake-side mansion where this soiree took place, lent to the organization by the owner for this event, belonged to... the guy who invented Pictionary. Awesome.
• Speaking of drawing games, Naomi and Muriel have invented (and continue to try to engage us in) the world's most impossible drawing game ever, the working title of which is "Guess What I am Drawing with My Nose." As in, drawing invisibly in the air with my nose. So, it's a fun game, in that it is funny to watch your kid industriously draw something in the air with their nose, but it is not a fun game if you are the sort of person that enjoys succeeding at a game, because really, you are never ever going to guess. Wait, unless Muriel is doing the drawing, because she always draws Thomas the Tank Engine. Then Emily. Then Percy.
• This maybe deserves its own boring post, but I would like to take this opportunity, while I'm thinking of it, to encourage people to consider super amateur backyard birdwatching. This involves buying the Sibley guide, or some similar reference, learning the five kinds of birds that normally visit your yard, and then when you see something out of the ordinary, cracking open the reference and adding another bit of bird knowledge to your world. It is a shortcut to nature awareness (for kids especially, but for grownups too), because birds are everywhere, and when you start looking for them a little more, it becomes a little treat when you see one. During a recent run, I saw some gold finches and a cedar waxwing (a pretty good looking little fellow!) besides the usual Red-wing Blackbirds and swallows by the lake. Yesterday we got to see and hear a murder of crows ganging up on a raptor (maybe a kestrel) in a nearby tree. We also recently spotted some quail, which are not supposed to be around here. I'm just saying, it's fun.
• Jim subbed last night on a soccer team, and today has been walking around like an old cowboy at the end of a very long cattle drive. He had a good time, and played well, by his own modest account. This, in combination with the fact that someone was kind enough to hip us to the fact that we do get Univision on channel 51, and that Univision is kind enough to actually screen the World Cup games so Jim doesn't have to go sit in the "bar" part of the Mexican restaurant at the mall food court that we frequent, means that we are a little bit soccer happy around these parts. So right- Jim is Chinese, and grew up in Malaysia, and so of course is a lifelong fan of... Germany? We were happy to see them beat Inglaterra this morning.
• At the end of this month, meaning, this very week, Muriel is going to switch schools and join Naomi's school. This way, they will be at the same school for the summer before Naomi heads off to real school at the end of August. I am just a teeny little bit in denial that this is upon us, not only because I haven't really bothered to have a conversation with the good people at the new school about what to expect from Muriel, and what Muriel should expect, but also because I think, embarrassingly, that I am going to be a little bit wrecked at leaving their baby school behind. We have been going to that school every day for almost four years now, and they have been extremely good and loving to our children. I remember when tiny little drooly Naomi was ready to move from the baby house across the street into the toddler class, it was weirdly emotional for me. I made the teachers these (I realize now) overly elaborate commemorative gifts, and had a hard time not crying when we said goodbye to them. (This is all the more embarrassing given that of course we saw them all the time afterwards.) Anyway, wish me luck, is all I'm saying.

This is getting long, and I haven't even gotten to the part where I get your help in cracking the karaoke code, or force you to endure a tireless rant on the crap crap crappy weather we seem endlessly saddled with. Something to look forward to, right? But since you have read, or skimmed (no blame!) this far, here are a couple of photos from the all girls Strawberry Festival Outing 2010. See for yourself on the weather.

Aw, sisters.

We got the cop pedal car. I had to sit up front to pedal, so I kept telling Naomi she was the perp. She didn't get it.

Bollywood dancers. I am so taking a class, you guys.

Jumping house: three tickets.

Smaller jumping house with ball pit: two tickets.

Photographing children through jumping house mesh: Priceless.

We did get some strawberry shortcake. And look, warm enough to take off our sweaters!

ZOID

Naomi has a little mortar board that she sported last Thursday as she graduated from preschool in a wild not-quite-ceremony at a local park (an event I missed on account of being in Arizona). The kids' hats were made of white paper, and each kid decorated his or her own with markers and stickers. Naomi's has a smiling heart, stars, several stickers that say "Super Job!", and something that looks like a field notebook illustration of an agave plant. I picked it up while I was clearing off the table tonight (it made it into the house after a week in the trunk of the car), and for a few moments I could not figure out why someone would have written the word "ZOID" on the side of it, in black marker. Oh wait, 2010. Yeah, that makes more sense.

Today we had some friends over for brunch, and I did rather a poor job of having my act together in time to be any kind of hostess to them. Jim made a really delicious frittata and some bacon, which vied for first place in the yummy food category. My contribution was the doughnut muffins we made once before, and they did not come out well at all, never mind the part where they took forever to bake (?). I also forgot the fruit salad I had made, until about 3/4 of the way through the meal, promised a kid an English muffin and never delivered, and put my guest in the position of jamming up toast for my children. Oh well. I need to maybe practice a bit more on the entertaining. I'm feeling rusty. We still had a nice time, and they either did as well or are super gracious and good at feigning enjoyment.

Also, Naomi did me proud by marching into the house to show off the roly poly bug she had caught and was holding in her hand. Things got a little out of hand later in the day, when she amassed a half dozen or more roly polies and created a mini-dystopian nightmare ecosystem for them in a little tupperware dish, with smooth pebbles, sorrel leaves, and absolutely scale-proof walls. There was a weird interlude where she tried to convince us to let her poke holes in a jar lid and make a home for the bugs in there, or get a caterpillar and let it turn into a chrysalis, etc., and there was actually a point where she was on the verge of throwing the kind of fit that would seem more appropriate coming from a teen whose friends were all getting cars for graduation while she was not. Then we were in the dumb position of arguing about what comprises quality of life for a roly poly bug with a five-year-old who is convinced that a roly poly bug loves her and will be broken-hearted if she releases it to the wild.

In the afternoon it was off to Vince's, an Italian joint in south Seattle (or Renton?) that puts the Old back in Old School. It has faux brick wall covering, red-checked vinyl tablecloths, red glass jar candles, lasagna, gnocchi, spumoni, chianti, and most importantly, pizza, pizza, pizza. Our friend C. turned five today, and had the maturity and discernment to request a party at Vince's. The party room was decked out, the balloon/face painting guy was talented at balloons and just so-so at face painting (and weirdly, camera shy and not shy about it). I ate a lot of pizza, helped out with some pin the tail on the donkey, got briefly hit on by a very drunk retiree when I sneaked into the bar for a glass of red, handed out some cake, and emerged from the frescoed cave of Vince's party room into a brilliant evening still blazing with sunshine. In some ways, birthday girl C. is responsible for one great aspect of the life our family enjoys now, having dearest friends nearby who share so many of our experiences. Thanks for being born, little one.

Oh, one more. The girls were tired from the sunshine and pizza and cake and high jinks, and were more than willing to snuggle up in bed for a story (only a few chapters of Doctor Dolittle left!). Muriel sat leaning on a pillow, with a blanket over her lap, and Naomi leaned around me and saw her, and said, "She looks so beautiful. But she always looks so beautiful." Hee! And what? But so cute. OK, happy Saturday. Hope the sun is back tomorrow!

Away Game

This past weekend plus I traveled solo to Arizona, to attend some graduation-related celebrations. It is hard for me to believe that my niece, a person in the same generation as my own kids, is now out of high school and into the adult world (so to speak). Two nephews finished up 8th grade this year as well. My kids are in the second wave of grandkids, which means I also got to see a three-year-old niece, an 18-month-old niece, and a ten-month-old nephew. Graduates! Teenagers! Parents! Preschoolers! Siblings! Babies! And all in the zillion degree comfort one can only find on the face of the sun, or Phoenix in the summertime. (When I arrived back in Seattle on Sunday, the temperature differential between the two places was right around...50 degrees. Yikes!)

As sometimes happens when you are away from your children, or when they have experienced something out of the ordinary, my kids emerged from the other side of their Dad-only weekend something like six months older, and in Naomi's case, really, it feels like two years older. She is bursting with these long, excited ideas about things, which just pour out of her. She's always been reasonably chatty, but the enthusiasm and clarity she has when she talks about all these ideas has me flabbergasted. I have doubts about this lasting, though I hope it does, but for now I am really enjoying her new persona.

Wait, though, not all of it. On Sunday afternoon she became convinced that we should go swimming. It was already too late to go- we had to figure out dinner and stay on track for the inexorable march to bedtime (especially since Muriel had eschewed her nap). She did not like my answer, and began a ruthless lobbying campaign. It wasn't a friendly one, either. She suggested we vote. I voted against. She and Muriel voted for. "We have more votes, so we should go swimming," she said. I am pretty sure I didn't teach her about voting, so...? I told her my vote was bigger than hers and Muriel's. The idea spigot opened, and she began explaining that if Muriel stood on top of her, they would be bigger than I, and that would prove that their votes counted for more. I was laughing out loud at this point, and of course that made her furious (this is a great problem of ours- when she gets really serious about something, it is often side-splittingly funny, in the most charming and wonderful way, and I have only so much control over my laugh impulse). So I had to go along with her plan, and held Muriel up on her shoulders. Sure enough! The two of them are bigger than I am. But we still did not go swimming.

Both girls were extremely tired after dinner, so we jumped into Muriel's bunk to read a quick story. Occasionally they ask me to make up songs before bed, which, like the results when they ask me to make up stories, are super random and usually ridiculous. They always involve some player from whatever we just read or looked at (an elf, a seal, a snowy owl) getting ready for bed and falling asleep. This time, because I was thinking about how glad I was to be back with them, I sang a song about two girls whose mother goes away for a trip. The refrain had "Come back to me, Mama" a few times, and I noticed after the second repeat that Naomi was rubbing her eyes. "That song is too sad!" she said, and then started to cry for real. Which of course made me cry. Dumb, dumb Mama. What was I thinking? And then Muriel said, "Mom, something is coming out of your eyes." Hee. I had a reasonable save with a song about Brown Bear, headed to his lair with his brown bear hair, and then some loud snoring noises. Whew!


The ladies out luncheoning with Dad at the German Deli. Javol!